Marigold Rosenberg and the Boy Who Lived
by mortimorana
Summary: Growing up with two religious muggle parents who despise magic more than the Dursleys made things very difficult for Marigold. Confined to her house with no friends at all and a fear of her own magic pushed her to the edge. But when fate steps in, in the form of a very distinguished witch, Marigold's life is about to get even more complicated. Art: Tumblr user solbabydraws. Book 1
1. Flowers and Stars

(AN: This fic does reference emotional and physical abuse in regards to Marigold. Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K.)

Twenty minutes ago Edith and Donald Rosenberg had been the happiest couple in all of Great Britain. Six-month-old baby Marigold had just sat up all by herself, and the two of them had wasted no time in taking hundreds of pictures of the grinning girl. Her green eyes had sparkled with each high-pitched giggle. With each clap of her baby hands, Mr. Rosenberg had to fight the urge to swoop her into his arms and coddle her.

Everything had been fine until, after clapping her hands, baby Marigolds' stuffed horse zoomed into her hands. Mrs. Rosenberg had instantly screamed and dropped the camera; the sudden noise caused Marigold to stop giggling and completely fall over. It took only a second for Mr. Rosenberg to register what had happened and for the entire day to be ruined.

Mr. Rosenberg had frowned and quickly taken the toy away from Marigold, who didn't even cry. This wasn't the first time that his daughter had done something like that. There had been a few cases where she had caused similar problems. Mr. Rosenberg was a reasonable and well-respected man. If the people from church found out she had magic, as he was sure it was, then… he almost shuddered at the thought.

Without having to be told, Mrs. Rosenberg had quietly picked up Marigold and carried her to her crib. Without so much as looking back at her child, who was just previously the center of her attention, Mrs. Rosenberg returned to her husband. It had happened before, but she always thought it had been a fluke. There was simply no more denying that their daughter had… magic. She scowled at the word and crumbled into her husband's arms, and for a long time they just stood there, not saying a word.

"What are we going to do?" she finally whispered, fearing the answer.

"What can we do? We have tried everything. Scolding, a priest… we even tried reasoning with her," he answered. "We don't know where she got this, she's just a baby."

"Oh Donald, why is God punishing us? We are good people!" Mrs. Rosenberg wailed, finally giving into her worries.

"I know sweetheart, I know. Just have faith, everything is going to be okay," he sighed, as he rubbed her back and held her close.

"No it won't!" she cried. "What if _it_ happens when she is out of the house? What if _it_ happens and someone sees!"

At that Mr. Rosenberg pushed her away and looked directly into her eyes. He didn't notice that his nails were digging into her arms. "Edith, we can't let that happen! No one can know. You have to keep her here, she can't leave the house!"

"A-alright," she stammered in response, the crazed look in her husbands' eyes casing her to tremble in fear.

He wrapped her in another hug, and the two of them stood there swaying for a long time. Neither of them said anything; there was no need. They had both known parenting was going to be an adventure when they decided to have Marigold, but nothing could have prepared them for the journey ahead of them.

Down the hall, in her crib, Marigold was reaching out for the painted stars on her ceiling. She had no idea the trouble she was causing her parents. She had no idea what magic was, or what anything was, really.

She certainly had no way of knowing, as she gazed at the little painted stars, that several miles away there was a little boy the same age as her. A little boy who was sitting up for the first time himself, a little boy with magic flowing through his own veins. No clue there was a boy with two parents who embraced his magical gift.

Only Fate herself knew that these two babies were intertwined: both Marigold and the Boy-Who-Lived.


	2. A Very Distinguished Guest

(AN: Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Marigold Rosenberg was lying on her bed staring at her ceiling; the painted stars had long since faded. When she was younger, she used to stare at them, count them, try and make her own constellations. But as she stared up at them, they just reminded her of how small her world was.

It was getting close to her eleventh birthday and she had been looking forward to it for weeks. After all, her birthdays were the only days when her father was truly happy with her. The only days he really treated her as though her _problem_ didn't exist.

"That probably won't be the case this year though," she thought to herself.

It had only been an hour ago, but her cheek still stung.

She had been washing the dishes after breakfast when she had dropped her dad's favorite mug. She had started to panic. She kept wondering if she could fix it when it had jumped back into her hand, looking brand new.

Her father, who had been alerted by the crashing sound, had run in just as the cup was zooming into her hand. He had lost it, howling at her the same things he always howled at her when she used magic.

She had ducked beneath his first swing, but he got her in the face with the second. She had raced to her room, hearing his lumbering feet coming after her. She kept saying she didn't mean to, that it had been an accident, but he wasn't listing. When she got to her room, she hid in her closet and listened as the bolt on her door clicked. Her heart had sunk, knowing that she would be stuck in her room until he got back home from work.

Marigold rubbed her cheek and sat up. She walked over to the little mirror on her desk and looked in it. Sure enough, she had a bruise on her cheek. It obstructed her freckles and made her green eyes look muddy brown. She let down her long red hair and tried to hide the bruise, but only achieved side bangs that didn't let her see out of that eye. She gave up and put her hair back in a low ponytail.

From what she remembered of her mother, and what her dad always said, she looked like Edith had when she was her age. Marigold didn't remember much about her mother, just that she was quiet and respected her husband. What Marigold did remember was her mother leaving.

"You are a monster. I can't sit here watching idly as my child gets consumed by the devil," her mother had said, followed by some other things Marigold would rather not remember.

She watched herself shake her head in the mirror. She wished she could dye her hair, or at least cut it.

With a sigh she grabbed a book off her small bookshelf and climbed back on her bed. She knew she was reading, but she kept having to re-read paragraphs after finding that her mind had wandered off. Not that it really mattered that she kept wandering off; she had read this book many times before. It was her go-to adventure book, a book about a hero who saves the world with friendship and bravery.

She wished she could go on an adventure, but it had been weeks since she was last allowed out of the house. Unless someone came and got her, she would probably never leave the house again.

Marigold woke up early the morning of her birthday. She tried the door, half expecting it to be locked like it had been all week, but to her surprise, it was open. She tiptoed down the stairs and quietly started breakfast.

Her father came down several minutes later, probably woken by the smell of eggs. He didn't wish her happy birthday, but he threw a small package at her, which nearly fell into the eggs. She waited until the food was done and sat down at the table before she opened the gift.

It was a small triangle shaped locket, it had no pictures in it, but it looked old. The chain was tangled, but it looked in good condition.

"It was your mothers," her father said, not looking up from his eggs and toast. "She left it here."

"Thanks dad," she said, a faint smile playing at her lips. She appreciated that she had gotten a gift, even if it was something of her mother's.

She alternated between detangling the chain and eating her breakfast. Her father finished and took his dishes to the sink before retiring to the living room. When Marigold finally finished with the chain, she put it on, then went over to wash the dishes.

She was just wiping off her hands when the doorbell rang. Bewildered at who would come calling so early in the morning, she went and opened the door. Standing in front of her was a very stern old lady wearing a very long emerald robe. She looked down at Marigold, and Marigold felt the woman's eyes as they glanced at the bruise on her cheek.

"Is your father home?" the lady asked. Marigold only nodded, then called for her dad, who disgruntledly walked over to the door. Her father frowned at the woman, who didn't seem to notice or care.

"Good day Mr. Rosenberg. I am professor Minerva McGonagall, and I would like to talk to you about an opportunity for Marigold. May I come in?" she asked politely.

Marigold's father just frowned, but opened the door wider. The three of them walked into the living room and sat down. Marigold wasn't sure what to make of the strange woman. She could tell that her father didn't like the woman at all.

Professor McGonagall reached into her robes and pulled out a small letter, which she handed to Marigold. Marigold looked up at the woman in surprise; the letter was, of course, addressed to her. The address wasn't the house, but the seat in the living room Marigold was currently sitting in. It was as if the sender had known she would be sitting in it when they sent the letter.

Professor McGonagall just nodded, and Marigold opened the letter, breaking the pretty seal on the back.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Marigold asked, nearly dropping the paper after reading only the first line. This was bad.

At the mention of witchcraft her father immediately grabbed the letter from her hand and ripped it, letting it drop to the floor in front of him. Marigold watched as the two pieces of parchment floated to the ground.

"Absolutely not. No daughter of mine will be going to a school of sin," he seethed, glaring at the professor as if she were the devil.

"Mr. Rosenberg, your daughter has had her name written down since she was born," the professor replied calmly. "She has magic running through her veins. You can't deny that. We simply want to teach her how to harness and control it."

"Absolutely not! I will not associate myself with magic. I am a man of the church!" he roared in response.

"Mr. Rosenberg." The professor sounded affronted that he would yell at her, but her composure was calm. "Without proper training your daughter won't be able to control her magic. There will be instances in public, ones you wont be able to hide from. And you can't keep her locked in this house forever."

Marigold nearly gasped aloud. With the tone the woman was using, it was almost as if she knew that that's exactly what her father had been doing. She looked at her father, who was red in the face.

"Fine." His voice was surprisingly quiet. "Take her, if she _is_ a witch than I want nothing to do with her."

"With all due respect sir…"

"I don't want her. She has already cost me my wife, I won't have her ruining the _rest_ of my life," he said, cutting off the professor.

He sat down, defeated. Marigold just looked at him with wide eyes. Surely he didn't mean it. But as she kept staring at him, she realized he really _didn't_ want her. She stood to pick up the two pieces of paper and handed them to the professor.

"Let me grab my things," she mumbled before running up to her bedroom.

She threw some clothes and her favorite book into a bag, then stopped. She was leaving. She was finally leaving. Her heart couldn't stop pounding with excitement. This would be the first time she had been out of the house in weeks, and she was never coming back.

She raced down the stairs and found professor McGonagall standing next to the open door. Marigold took one last look at her father, who wasn't looking at her, and followed the professor out the front door. She felt the sunlight on her face and the wind in her hair. She had no idea where she was going or what this new life would be like. She was scared.

She was scared, but she was outside.


	3. Scholarships and Books

(A/N: Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K.)

The grass was beautiful. The clouds were fluffy and white. Marigold could not remember the last time she was this happy. She was wearing shoes again. They were a little small, but she was wearing them. She felt free.

"I am very sorry, Marigold," the professor said. At her name, Marigold looked away from the clouds. "I did not expect your father to have such a negative reaction. A lot of parents are hesitant at first, but to send you away… that's new."

"It's okay, Professor. But tell me, what is this school like? I didn't get to read the letter."

"Let's first get to a place where we can freely talk, then I will tell you all about Hogwarts. If you have no objections, we should take slide-along apparition, as it will get us there much faster."

Professor McGonagall held her hand out to Marigold, who hesitated. She wondered if she should look back at her house, like all people do when they start an adventure and know they won't be home again. But instead of looking back, she just shrugged and took the professors hand.

If Marigold could describe what apparition felt like in one word, it would be _gross._ She felt like all of the air in her lungs was being sucked out of her with a very high-powered vacuum, while all her other organs were simultaneously being pushed together. It was very uncomfortable and _gross_.

When it was finally over and her feet were back on the ground, she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she nearly threw up. It took her a couple moments to regain her composure, and when she finally did, she turned to Professor McGonagall.

"You did considerably well. Most people throw up their first time. Now, there's a place nearby where we can sit down and talk. Follow me, please."

Marigold looked up and found herself on a crowded street. The professor had somehow transported them there, wherever "there" was. The Professor was walking at a brisk pace, and Marigold didn't feel like asking any questions or drawing any more attention to herself.

As she walked she felt her hands grow sweaty, and all the hairs on the back of her arms and neck were standing on end. She had never been in a place so crowded; she wasn't used to seeing so many people going about their business. She felt very out of place amidst the adults.

It wasn't long before Professor McGonagall stopped. Marigold nearly ran into her.

"This is it, the Leaky Cauldron." McGonagall turned to a shabby looking door Marigold was surprised she missed. "We can talk in here."

Professor McGonagall held open the door and let Marigold in first. This place was definitely full of magic. Marigold felt all of her anxiety melt away when she walked over the threshold, as if the magic were draining all her fears. The atmosphere was warm and happy. Magic flowed like electricity; she felt as if all she had to do was reach out and touch it. For the first time in eleven years, she sensed that she belonged.

"This way, Marigold," Professor McGonagall said whilst presenting her with a chair only a few paces to the left. "If you give me only a moment, I need to send a message to someone regarding your future living arrangements."

"Thank you, Professor," Marigold replied, taking the seat.

She watched as McGonagall walked away, then directed her attention around the room. She was seated in the front corner of the room, so she could see almost everyone.

There were a few customers in robes of emerald and violet. None of them were doing magic, but one was absentmindedly tapping a wand on a table. She wondered if she was ever going to get a wand, or if they were even needed in order to do magic. She had so many questions, but she was sure the professor didn't have time to answer all of them.

Marigold caught the eye of the man behind the desk, who smiled at her and waved. She feebly tried to smile back, and then went back to scanning the room. She noticed the pictures on the walls were empty, and for a moment, she stupidly wondered if the occupants had left their frames.

When Professor McGonagall returned, Marigold realized she had completely forgotten her companion had been there at all. Marigold had entered her own little magical world while she had waited.

"Well then, Marigold, I was just talking to Headmaster Dumbledore about your future living arrangements. He told me he would work on finding a family to keep you during the summers that you are not in school."

"Thank you so much," Marigold said, smiling with relief. "But professor," she continued, "What exactly is Hogwarts? I know it's a school for magic, but my dad ripped up the letter."

"Of course. Hogwarts is a wizarding boarding school. You will attend for seven years, and in that time, you will learn how to control and harness your magic."

"Does it cost money to attend? Because I don't have any," Marigold asked. She started absentmindedly fidgeting with the locket around her neck.

"It does cost money, but most of the money is for school supplies, and for this first year, a wand. However, you shouldn't worry about that, because there is a scholarship system. As long as you pass all your classes in school, your supplies and wand will be paid for, as well as an allowance for other things.

"When you reach your O.W.L.'s in your fifth year, you must achieve, at minimum, an 'Acceptable' grade in all of them. There is even a bonus when you take your N.E.W.T.'s. If you achieve an 'Outstanding' in all of them, your debt will be cut in half. A very generous offer on our part, but it insures that you work hard in school."

Marigold only nodded in response. It sounded like a great deal, though she didn't quite understand what owls and newts had to do with anything. "Are there other scholarship students?"

"A few, but you are the only one living with an appointed family."

"Are there any other students like me? Ones with non-magical parents?"

"The term you are looking for is Muggle. A Muggle is a non-magic person. And yes, there are a few Muggleborn students such as yourself."

"Where will I get my supplies, will we have to apparate again?" Marigold asked, hoping they wouldn't have to.

Professor McGonagall nearly smiled. "No, we can get to Diagon Alley from here," she said, standing up and pushing in her chair.

Marigold stood up as well. She still had about a thousand questions, but she was curious what Diagon Alley was, so she followed silently. The two of them went out the back door, and Marigold found herself staring at a brick wall.

She watched as Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand, which was dark and beautiful, and tapped several of the bricks in the wall. Almost immediately the bricks began to move, and in no time at all the wall had formed an archway. As impressive as that magic had been, the sight through the archway was even more so: it was the busiest street she had ever seen in her entire life.

Witches and wizards, both young and old, were bustling about, talking and laughing with each other. But the shops! Oh, the shops. Marigold thought she must look like a bobble head with how she kept looking around. The magic in the Leaky Cauldron was nothing compared to the magic she felt in Diagon Alley. Where the Leaky Cauldron felt homey, Diagon Alley felt like adventure and excitement.

Marigold felt her feet moving as she followed Professor McGonagall, but her eyes kept looking everywhere. The brightly colored robes were distracting compared to the mundane blacks and greys of Muggle clothes.

"Marigold?" Professor McGonagall asked, attempting to get through to Marigold.

"Sorry," Marigold replied, tearing her eyes away from a bookshop.

"Quite alright. I was just saying we should go to Gringotts Bank first to set up your scholarship fund."

"Yes ma'am."

The two of them kept walking; they had to push through the crowd at times, and Professor McGonagall had to slow down for Marigold at others. But they finally made it to Gringotts Bank. It was a tall, white marble building, and Marigold found herself craning her neck to look up.

They walked in, and Marigold found a warning on one of the doors. It was a rhyme about not stealing from the bank, which Marigold found funny. She had seen news reports about Muggles (what a silly word) robbing banks. They almost always got caught. She wondered if there was a Wizarding police force.

The absurdity of the idea almost made her giggle, but the noise never made it past her throat. Inside the giant entryway were small creatures walking around or seated behind very tall desks.

"Goblins," she heard the professor whisper to her.

She just nodded in response. The two of them walked down to the end of the entryway, toward the tallest of the desks. Behind it sat a very old looking goblin, or at least, the goblin looked older than the other goblins to Marigold. He was stamping different pieces of parchment when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and got his attention.

"I'm Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. I would like to create a scholarship account."

"Very well," the goblin said. His voice was deep and scratchy. "Here are the forms, you need to sign and have the student sign as well."

"Thank you," she said, looking down at the forms.

The two of them spent the next few minutes filling out the forms, signing and initialing on different lines. When they were done, they returned the forms to the goblin, who then gave Marigold a small key, which she put on her locket chain, and a bag full of coins. The goblin told Marigold that a vault had been opened for her and that the key was to enter the vault. The goblin gave the professor an identical key, which she slipped into her robes.

Marigold and Professor McGonagall left the bank while the professor explained the strange coins.

"The larger gold ones are called Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, and the bronze ones are Knuts. There are seventeen Sickles in a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts in a Sickle." She opened the door for Marigold, who had a look of utter confusion on her face. "Give it time, you will get the hang of it."

Marigold nodded. It felt weird to have any kind of currency on her, especially such a large sum. But as she looked around her she wondered for a moment if it would be enough to pay for her supplies. Everything in Diagon Alley looked as expensive as it did magical.

Marigold and Professor McGonagall made their way around Diagon Alley. They stopped in various shops and bought various things that the professor insisted Marigold needed. Marigold bought her robes in the second hand shop; McGonagall told her that she had enough for Madam Malkin's, but Marigold insisted. She wanted to save what money she could. Besides, she was still growing, and buying new robes would be a silly investment.

Marigold wanted to stay in the Apothecary looking at all the ingredients for potions, but Professor McGonagall looked like she wanted to leave, so Marigold decided she would just have to go back someday.

Marigold wanted to save her wand for last, so instead Professor McGonagall took the both of them to Flourish and Blotts next. Marigold had never seen so many books in one place. After finding all of the books she needed for school, she went back to the chair where Professor McGonagall had been sitting. She found the professor talking to a formidable looking woman with a bird on her hat.

Marigold quietly backed away, deciding to look at other books rather than intrude on their conversation. She turned around a corner and bumped into someone, who fell to the ground.

"I am so very sorry," she managed to say. Her face was burning, and she felt very embarrassed to have knocked someone over.

She held her hand out, and a very round-faced boy looked up at her. After a moment, he realized her hand was there and took it.

"I'm sorry," she repeated once he was standing.

"It's alright," he mumbled, brushing off his pants.

"Do you go to Hogwarts?" she asked before she was able to stop herself. She blushed again, wondering why she was being so rude. Her father would have scolded her for being so direct.

"Not yet, but I'm starting this year." He was mumbling and looking down at his feet.

"Oh, sorry for bothering you," she said, realizing he probably didn't want to talk to her. She turned to go but only got a few paces.

"Wait." She turned toward the boy. His face was red. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Marigold Rosenberg. I'm also starting Hogwarts this year."

Before he could respond, Professor McGonagall and the other woman turned the corner. The lady looked at Marigold, and for a moment, it looked as though she was surprised to see her there, but she didn't say anything.

"Did you have any trouble finding your books?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No, I managed, thank you."

"Neville, we must be going now. Say goodbye to your friend," the stern looking woman said.

"Yes Gran." Neville turned to Marigold and gave a little wave before leaving with his grandmother.

Marigold waved back and watched as the two of them disappeared. She wondered if Neville and herself would be friends at Hogwarts. She'd never had a friend before; she wondered if what just happened was even a good first impression.

She guessed she would just have to wait until she got to Hogwarts.

(Please take time and review. Tell me what you liked or what you thought needed work.)


	4. A New Friend

(Everything you recognize is the property of the amazing J.K.)

McGonagall helped Marigold pay for the books and then the two of them headed out of the bookshop. Marigold felt her heart start to race; all she needed was a wand.

"Where to next?" McGonagall asked.

"To get a wand. Where is the best place to do that?"

"That would be Ollivanders. This way." She turned the corner and kept walking.

Marigold noticed that the street was less crowded; they didn't have to push through the throng of witches and wizards tied down with miscellaneous school supplies. As they walked, Marigold spotted a very tall man walking a few strides ahead of her. He was engaged in conversation with someone she couldn't see; either that or he was talking at the ground.

Professor McGonagall seemed to see him about the same time as Marigold did. She wordlessly sped up, and Marigold had to run keep up. A witch, who had previously been obstructing Marigold's view, turned into one of the stores and Marigold noticed that the giant was, in fact, talking to someone. A moppy-haired boy who was carrying an owl in a cage.

"Don' mention it," the large man said. What the boy wasn't supposed to mention was beyond her. "Ah, Professor McGonagall," said the giant, looking up and recognizing Marigold's companion.

"Hello Hagrid. Dumbledore told me you would be taking Potter shopping." McGonagall looked down at the boy. She gazed at him as if he was something she couldn't explain and it bothered her.

The boy had bright eyes and a scar that looked like lightning. He was staring up at the witch; neither of the two had noticed Marigold yet.

"She's also the head of Gryffindor," she heard Hagrid finish. Marigold felt rude for not paying attention while he was taking.

"It's very nice to meet you Professor."

McGonagall just nodded back at him, then turned to Hagrid. "I know you are very busy with Potter, but Marigold here still has to buy her wand, and I have to contact Dumbledore. Would you mind taking her for a little while?"

At the sight of Marigold, Hagrid's eyes grew wide in shock. For a second she wondered if he was surprised to see she was there, but what he said next caught her completely unawares.

"Blimey, you look like Lilly Evans."

"Who?"

"Mum?" Everyone looked at the boy, and he seemed to realize what he said sounded really stupid. "Sorry, it's nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand and Marigold took it.

"Marigold Rosenberg, it's nice to meet you."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Well then Marigold, I will leave you with them. After you get your wand, feel free to go shopping. I'll take your things back to the Leaky Cauldron for you. Meet me there when you are done."

"Yes ma'am." Marigold smiled at Professor McGonagall who gave one last look at Hagrid before walking back in the direction they had come.

"Sorry 'bout that, Marigold, ye just took me by surprise," Hagrid said, looking down at Marigold.

Until then, she had not been able to take in his sheer size. It took him looking directly at her for her to be able to appreciate just how gigantic he was. At nearly twice as tall as a grown man, Hagrid looked almost wild. If it weren't for his smiling face and his twinkling eyes, she would probably be scared.

"We were just on our way to get my wand as well." Harry smiled as the three of them began walking ahead.

"I guess the professor and I were lucky to run into you when we did," Marigold said smiling.

"Why were you with a professor?" Harry asked.

"Well, she came by this morning to give me my Hogwarts letter…" Marigold thought back to earlier that morning. "Things kind of got out of hand with my dad, so she's taking me shopping." Marigold decided that being vague was probably the best idea.

"Ah, Hagrid came and got me this morning as well. I didn't even know about Hogwarts until he gave me the letter."

"Really? I just found out about Hogwarts too. Are you Muggle-born like me?"

"Er- not exactly. I _was_ raised by Muggles though. Didn't know my parents were magic until Hagrid told me."

Before Marigold could say anything, she caught sight of the wand store. All thoughts trailed off at the peeling gold letters that read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."

A light brown wand with a twisted handle lay on a faded dusty cushion in the window of the shop. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She tuned to Harry who had a matching grin on his face.

Hagrid opened the door and the three of them walked into the tiny entryway. Hagrid sat down in a spindly dusty chair. Marigold and Harry gazed at the shelves full of long narrow boxes; there must have been thousands. The magic felt ancient. Marigold was starting to wonder if magic felt different in different places, or if it was something she imagined.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice echoed through the shop.

It was a moment before Marigold was able to put a face to the voice. The old man seemed to materialize out of nothing, his wide pale eyes shining with an unnerving glow.

"Ah yes," the man said, gazing intently at Harry. "I thought I would bee seeing you soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes."

The man turned to look at Marigold, his eyes registering the bruise on her face, but he seemed to elect to ignore it. "You also seem to have a friend who looks the spitting image of your mother."

Marigold and Harry exchanged glances. Marigold was wondering if this would be a regular occurrence if she were to keep hanging out with Harry.

"Seems only yesterday she was in here buying her first wand," Mr. Ollivander continued, turning back to Harry. "Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Of course it's really the wand that chooses the wizard."

Marigold noticed that Mr. Ollivander was creepily close to Harry. He reached out and touched the scar on Harry's forehead. Harry made an obvious face of discomfort. Marigold nearly said something in Harry's defense, but Mr. Ollivander moved back.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did that," he said softly. Marigold looked at the scar in confusion; it had seemed an odd scar. She listened as Mr. Ollivander continued. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… if I'd known…"

He shook his head, then noticed Hagrid. He went over and the two of them started talking. Marigold turned to Harry who was rubbing his scar.

"Are you okay?" she mouthed. He just nodded in response.

"And who are you, young miss?" Mr. Ollivander asked, turning to Marigold.

"Marigold Rosenberg, Sir." She backed away slightly, but he just nodded.

"Well now, Mr. Potter. Let me see." Marigold watched as he pulled out a tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which one is your wand arm?"

"Er – well, I'm right handed," Harry responded.

Marigold watched as Mr. Ollivander measured Harry. She tried to listen as he explained the three different wand cores, unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix tail feather, but she kept getting distracted by the tape measure, which was measuring Harry all on its own.

Mr. Ollivander stopped the tape measure and handed Harry a wand. He told him to give it a wave. Harry looked over at Marigold; she nodded in reassurance, and then he gave it a swish. Ollivander yanked it out of his hand and handed him another.

Mr. Ollivander kept handing Harry wands; some Harry didn't have to wave before they were yanked out of his hands. The pile of rejected wands kept getting higher and higher. Harry kept glancing at it with a worried look. He kept peeking at her, and she would respond with an encouraging nod or smile. But she was getting worried as well. Maybe when it got to her turn, Mr. Ollivander wouldn't be able to find her a wand.

"I wonder," whispered Ollivander suddenly. "Yes, why not, unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Marigold observed as Harry took the wand. A smile crept across his face, and when he raised the wand above his head and brought it swishing down, she watched as a shower of read and gold sparks shot out from the end. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Marigold was beaming; she was so excited for him. Harry looked over to her with a grin on his face.

"How curious, how very curious…" Mr. Ollivander muttered.

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it, still muttering.

"Sorry," said Harry, "but _what's_ curious?"

Mr. Ollivander hesitated before saying, "I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every single wand. It just so happens that the Phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather- just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother gave you that scar."

Marigold watched as Harry shivered. He paid for his wand then went to stand by Hagrid. Marigold nearly jumped when Mr. Ollivander spoke to her.

"Lets see, which arm is your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed sir," she replied, wary of the measuring tape that sprung to life and began measuring her like it did Harry.

"Rosenberg… Rosenberg…" Mr. Ollivander mumbled looking at her. "I have never sold a wand to a Rosenberg before, are you perchance Muggleborn?"

"Yes sir."

"I thought so, I thought so," he repeated. He was rummaging around in the boxes of wands near the back; when he finally returned with a small box Marigold felt excited. "Beech and unicorn tail."

Marigold hesitated before taking it from Mr. Ollivander. She had always been raised with the teaching that magic was wrong. Up until now she had just been buying books and supplies. Magical they were, yes, but this was different. She pushed all thoughts of her father away and gently took the wand.

Just like he had with Harry, the moment the wand touched Marigold's fingers, Mr. Ollivander had ripped it away. He grabbed another, and she hesitated yet again. As the pile of discarded wands grew higher and higher, Marigold's reluctance grew smaller and smaller. But apparently she hesitated one too many times for the wandmaker's liking.

"Miss. Rosenberg, why are you hesitating before taking the wands I give you?" His soft voice sounded not mad or upset, but it sounded sad.

"Sorry sir. I only just found out this morning that I was a witch," she explained. "And well, I was raised to believe magic was wrong, sir. It's not that I'm scared, or even that I believe magic to be wrong, I just…" she trailed off. Her hand had somehow made its way to her cheek where she was rubbing her bruise. She stopped immediately.

"I see." Mr. Ollivander looked at Marigold and nodded. He walked over to the window and gingerly picked up the wand Harry and Marigold had gazed at before coming in. "I have made and sold many wands, Miss. Rosenberg, but none have proven harder to sell than this one."

The wand in Mr. Ollivanders' hand looked older up close. What she had mistaken for a twisted handle turned out to be carved branches with teeny flowers in every stage of bloom.

"Alder with phoenix feather, nine inches, unyielding." He handed the wand to Marigold, who didn't hesitate in grabbing it.

Warmth spread through her fingers, and just has she had done so countless times before, she waved it. A burst of blue and white feathers appeared out of nowhere, Marigold watched as they gently floated down to the ground.

She heard Hagrid and Harry clapping behind her, but her eyes were fixed on the wandmaker. Mr. Ollivander gently took the wand from Marigold and started wrapping it.

"A rare combination, alder and phoenix feather," he said, after Harry and Hagrid had stopped clapping. "Just like Potter here, we can expect great things from you."

"Why is that sir?" she asked.

"The wand chooses the witch or wizard, Miss. Rosenberg. And this wand here is made of Alder. A very loyal wand type, best suited for non-verbal spells. It has a reputation for choosing only the most advanced witch or wizard. When combined with phoenix feather, the pickiest of cores, it is suitable for a user who will make their mark on this world. So you see, Miss. Rosenberg, great things can be expected of you."

Marigold paid for her wand, and left with Hagrid and Harry. The sun was setting and the streets of Diagon Alley were thinning out. The shops were starting to close, so the three of them decided to head back to the Leaky Cauldron.

When they got back it was empty except for the innkeeper and Professor McGonagall, who looked up from her book.

"Hello Professor," Hagrid said.

"Hagrid." Professor McGonagall nodded. "I expect everything went well?"

While the two adults talked, Harry turned to Marigold. "You are rubbing your cheek again, does it hurt?"

"My… oh, no I didn't even realize I was doing it." She lowered her hand. It didn't hurt at all when she wasn't touching it, and she wondered why she was rubbing it.

"Can I ask what happened?" he asked tentatively. He sounded curious, but unsure whether or not it was okay to mention.

"Yeah… um… I was doing dishes and broke my dad's mug. I guess I accidently fixed it with magic. He saw, and well, he didn't really appreciate it."

"Ah, my aunt and uncle usually lock me up when I do accidental magic. I have no idea what's going to happen when Hagrid drops me off."

"You…"

"We should probably be headn' back now Harry," Hagrid said interrupting Marigold.

"Okay," Harry nodded in response. "Will I see you at Hogwarts?" he asked turning Marigold.

"Yeah, I will look for you." She said smiling.

Marigold said goodbye to Hagrid and waved as the two of them left the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well then, Marigold, I talked with Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall said once the two had disappeared. "He thinks he found a family to take you. However, they won't be able to come and get you until tomorrow morning."

"Okay, so where will I be staying tonight?" Marigold asked.

"I have booked you a room here in the Leaky Cauldron. All your things have been moved already. If you come with me I can show you the room."

Marigold followed McGonagall up the stairs and toward one of the rooms. McGonagall opened the door, and the two of them walked into a rather homey room. It had a crackling fireplace and a four-poster bed. A desk was sitting underneath a small window, and Marigold's books and supplies were stacked on and around it.

"Alright, I will leave you here for the night. I wish I could stay but I have things to attend to. I will be back in the morning, hopefully with a family to take you in. You can read over your books or look over your supplies, but now that you have a wand, you can't do magic. You will have to wait until you get to Hogwarts for that. Do you have any questions?"

"No ma'am." Marigold smiled. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Marigold. There is a small gift on your bed. I haven't had the chance to say happy birthday."

"Thank you professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded at Marigold and left the room, closing the door. Marigold quickly locked the latch behind her. She wasn't scared to be alone in the Leaky Cauldron; the magic flowing through the building comforted her.

She went over to the bed and climbed on, filled with excitement and curiosity. Sitting atop the pillow was a small parcel wrapped in red and gold paper and a gigantic gold bow.

A letter was tucked under the bow, and she ripped it open. _Happy Birthday Marigold_ was written in loopy cursive on the front of the letter. She opened it read the note inside. _To help you get by in school. Study hard._

Marigold gently untied the bow and unwrapped the gift. Inside were a feather quill and a bottle of never-dry-out gold ink. She assumed it meant that the ink would never dry out if she left the lid open, or maybe never run out? She wasn't sure.

Underneath the quill was a purple journal with red binding. She opened it up and noticed that it was a school planner with places to write what classes she had and what homework was due.

Marigold went over to the desk and moved some books aside. She opened up the gold ink and dipped the quill in. She wrote her name on the little designated line and closed the planner with a smile. She watched in surprise as gold ink appeared on the cover in what looked like her handwriting.

The words _No Homework Due_ appeared, then disappeared moments later. She watched as the letters reappeared one after another until the phrase was complete, where it would then disappear and start all over again. She watched the line appear and disappear for maybe five minutes, and realized she would have to thank Professor McGonagall first thing in the morning.

Marigold gently set the planner aside and grabbed one of the journals she bought in Flourish and Blotts. She also grabbed her copy of the S _tandard Book of Spells: Grade One_ and opened it.

She spent the rest of the night reading through the Charms book and taking notes on each of the spells, writing down what they were used for and how to preform them. It was nearly four in the morning when she fell asleep on the last chapter of the open book.

(My beta is finally back, grammar is a ton better now. Thanks duskomybloom!)


	5. The Weasleys

(Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Marigold woke up to the sound of knocking. She tried to sit up, but a page from the book was stuck to her face. She must have drooled during the night. She brushed it off and went over to the door. She took a brief moment to tie up her hair, then opened the door.

Professor McGonagall was standing there, and Marigold was just about to say her thanks for the planner when she noticed another woman standing next to the professor. She was a plump woman who had red hair similar to Marigold's. She had a warm smile and a friendly face.

Marigold moved out of the way, letting the two women in. When they were inside, Marigold wordlessly closed the door. She caught a look at herself in the bathroom mirror and she realized she looked slightly ridiculous, a bruise on one half of her face and a big red mark on the other from sleeping on the book.

"Marigold, this is Molly Weasley. She and her husband have agreed to take you in until you graduate," Professor McGonagall said, introducing the two.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley. I hope it's not too much trouble," Marigold said, anxiously rubbing her arm.

"No trouble at all, dear. Arthur and I are happy to help." Her voice sounded like honey, like how mothers sound in the movies Marigold used to watch.

"Well, Marigold, I should get back to Hogwarts. I will leave you in Mrs. Weasley's very capable hands," Professor McGonagall chimed in.

"Oh, I wanted to say thank you for the beautiful birthday present."

"You are very welcome. I will see you at Hogwarts, dear," Professor McGonagall said with a soft smile. Marigold smiled back, a bit surprised.

Professor McGonagall left the room, nodding to Mrs. Weasley as she went. Marigold felt very nervous to be left with the woman who would be taking care of her for the next seven years. Furthermore, Mrs. Weasley seemed to radiate motherly love, which was also very confusing to Marigold.

"Well then, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, taking a seat on the desk chair. "You must have a lot you want to talk about. If you want, we can talk before heading back home."

Marigold nodded then sat down at the foot of the bed. "I don't take up too much space, and I'm very quiet. I'm very good at doing chores, though I don't know much about wizarding households. I promise I won't be in the…"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, dear. Arthur and I are very excited to have you. We have several kids already, you will fit right in," she said happily.

"You have children?"

"Seven. Six are at home right now. The oldest, Bill, is out working as a curse breaker for Gringotts. The second oldest is going to be moving over to Romania in a little while to study dragons. But he's still home."

Marigold felt the color draining from her cheeks. She was going to be living in a house with eight people. She was used to being alone, or with her father when he was in a good mood. Living with eight people… could she do that?

"I um… Mrs. Weasley, ma'am… I have never really been around that many people. I'm not really good at interacting with others," she mumbled, tracing the print on her bed.

"Never been… don't Muggle-born children usually go to school with other Muggle children?" she asked, confused.

"Well, yes… but I was homeschooled. I was never really allowed out of the house." Marigold felt herself blushing; she didn't dare look up at Mrs. Weasley.

"I see," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "Well, Professor McGonagall was telling my husband and myself about you, and she seems to think that you will do fine."

Marigold looked up; Mrs. Weasley was smiling at her. Marigold trusted the professor's judgment. If the professor thought she would be okay, then Marigold would probably be alright. She found herself mirroring Mrs. Weasley's smile.

"So, how are we going to get to the house?" she asked. She was worried that they would have to apparate.

"I was thinking we would use the Floo Network. But we should probably pack your things in your trunk first."

"Oh, of course."

Marigold hastily packed her things. Mrs. Weasley helped out by handing her things. When the two of them finally finished, Mrs. Weasley lead Marigold downstairs. They stopped in front of the empty fireplace; Mrs. Weasley took the trunk from Marigold's hand.

"Using the Floo Network can be a little scary at first, but it is better than apparating," Mrs. Weasley said, grabbing a small bag off the mantle. "So, what you are going to do is take some of this Floo powder and stand in the fireplace. You are going to throw down the powder. Emerald flames are going to engulf you, but they will not hurt you. When the flames appear, you are going to state your destination, which is going to be the Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole. Once you do that, you will be transported home."

Marigold took a breath. "Well, anything is better than apparating."

Marigold grabbed a handful of the Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. She dropped the powder, and sure enough bright green flames rose up. They felt warm, but didn't burn.

"The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole," she said as clearly as she could. She nearly coughed at the end from smoke inhalation, but she managed to finish.

With a whoosh, she felt the universe tugging at her from every direction. Seconds later, she was sliding out of another fireplace. She stood up and moved out of the way, expecting Mrs. Weasley to come sliding out behind her. Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley slid out of the fireplace moments later with Marigold's trunk in her hand. She dusted herself off, then turned to Marigold.

"Well, Marigold, this is home," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing to the rest of the house.

Marigold realized they were in the kitchen. She saw a pretty garden outside the window. In the sink, sponges were scrubbing pots and pans using magic. A large wooden table was in the center; nine chairs were angled around so close together that Marigold wondered how anyone sat down.

Mrs. Weasley led Marigold into the living room. The first thing she noticed was a large clock was on the wall. It had several hands on it, all of which had smiling faces of people Marigold assumed were the Weasleys. It didn't have any numbers on it, just words like _home, school, work, prison_ , or _mortal peril_. Marigold wondered if she would get a hand on the clock someday.

"Go ahead and sit down. Arthur took the kids shopping for their school supplies, so they won't be home for a little while. Charlie is outside de-gnoming the garden. I'll go get him."

Marigold took a seat on the couch and watched as Mrs. Weasley hurried out of the living room. Marigold passed the time watching two knitting needles knit on their own. She kept wondering about magic and if there were any limits to what it could do.

Mrs. Weasley returned after a few moments, followed by a rather scruffy redhead; he looked about eighteen. Marigold stood up, and Charlie smiled at her.

"Hi, Marigold. Mum told me we were getting a new addition to the family," he said, shaking her hand vigorously. "She told me you are Muggle-born, which is great! Muggles don't know much about dragons. We have a lot to talk about, sis."

Marigold beamed at him. She was taken aback by the "sis" comment, but it sounded great when he said it. And dragons! Mrs. Weasley had mentioned he worked with dragons before, but Marigold had been distracted by the amount of kids she was going to live with.

"I read a story about a dragon once. It talked. Can they really talk, or is that just something Muggles got wrong?" Marigold asked.

Charlie looked at her with wide eyes, then burst out laughing. Like really laughing, nearly howling. "Do Muggles really think they can talk?" Charlie managed to ask between laughs.

"Yeah," Marigold said, grinning back at him.

The two of them burst into laughter at the same time. Mrs. Weasley took this as her cue to leave for the kitchen. Marigold and Charlie laughed for a long time before sighing. Charlie flopped on the chair, and Marigold sat back down on the couch.

"So tell me, Charlie, what's your favorite type of dragon, or is there just one type?" Marigold asked, leaning forward and resting her face in her hands.

"No, there are several types of dragon. My favorite… that's hard, Marigold…" He trailed off and scratched his head. "My favorite type of dragon would have to be the Peruvian Vipertooth. It has copper-colored scales, black ridge-markings, and short horns on its head. Though, the Antipodean Opaleye is great. It's probably the most beautiful of the dragons. It has pearly scales and glittering eyes with no pupils."

"The first one sounds really cool. Now, are you sure they can't talk, or is it just that no witch or wizard has heard them?" Marigold teased.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure they don't talk, but who knows, I could be the first wizard to hear one," he laughed.

Mrs. Weasley chose that moment to walk in with a plate of sandwiches. Charlie and Marigold grabbed one each, and Marigold realized just how hungry she had been. Charlie and Marigold talked about dragons for a long time. They talked about Charlie and his plans to move to Romania. They continued talking long after the sandwiches had disappeared.

Marigold was happy; Charlie was awesome, and she felt comfortable here at the Burrow. She wondered what the rest of the family would be like. If they were anything like Mrs. Weasley and Charlie, than Marigold would do fine. Memories of her father and life before knowing about magic seemed so long ago.

Marigold was in the middle of laughing at something Charlie said when a loud crash echoed from the kitchen. She jumped in surprise, but Charlie looked unfazed.

"That must be dad and the others," he said, standing up and stretching.

Marigold stood up and followed Charlie into the kitchen. She stood behind Charlie for protection without realizing she was doing so.

A tall man with very orangey-red hair was talking with Mrs. Weasley; Marigold assumed that must be Mr. Weasley. A girl, maybe a year younger than Marigold, was clutching his hand. Though, the girl also looked so similar to Marigold that she wasn't quite sure if she got the age right. Charlie waved, and the girl waved back with a grin.

Marigold watched as another boy slid out of the fireplace. He had lanky arms and legs, lots of freckles, and a rather long nose. He waved at Charlie, who waved back. Two boys slid right after one another out of the fireplace; when they stood up Marigold was surprised to see twins. She wondered if she would be able to tell them apart. Finally, the oldest looking boy slipped out of the fireplace. He had considerably curly hair and a rather stuck up expression on his face.

Mrs. Weasley must have noticed that all of her children were back because she cleared her throat. They all looked to her, except for the twins, who were poking each other and grinning.

"Kids, _Fred_ , _George_ ," she warned. "This is Marigold Rosenberg."

At the mention of her name, Marigold stepped out from behind Charlie. She hesitantly smiled at the rest of the family; most of them smiled back.

"She's going to be staying with us for the summers that she's not at Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley continued.

"Welcome to our home, Marigold. I'm Arthur Weasley. I have so many questions about the Muggle world," he said, shaking her hand. "This is Ginny," he said, motioning to the little girl at his side. She smiled, but didn't say anything.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Percy," said the older curly-haired boy, walking over and shaking Marigold's hand.

"I'm Gred," one of the twins said, grinning.

"And I'm Forge," said the other.

Marigold turned to the last Weasley and noticed that he was staring at her face and frowning. Marigold fought the urge to cover her bruise with her hand.

"I'm Ron," he said, finally looking away.

"It's nice to meet all of you," Marigold said with a smile. "Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

"You even look like one of us," one of the twins said.

"You will fit right in." The two boys finished each other's sentences.

Marigold felt herself smiling; she guessed she _did_ look like one of the Weasleys. She wondered if it was too early to get attached to the kids. She already felt attached to Mrs. Weasley and Charlie, but for some reason, she sensed she truly did belong.

"Alright kids, go take your school supplies to your room. Charlie, dear, can you go back to de-gnoming the garden, and take Ginny with you?"

Charlie nodded and grabbed Ginny's hand; she smiled up at him with a toothy grin. The two of them went outside, Charlie giving a brief wave to Marigold.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for Marigold to join them. Marigold pulled out one of the chairs across from the two adults and sat down. She was a little bit anxious. They didn't look upset with her, and she hadn't done anything wrong. She wondered what they wanted to talk about.

"So, Marigold, Mr. Weasley and I were wondering if you would tell us a bit about what your home was like before Professor McGonagall came and got you," Mrs. Weasley asked in a hushed and gentle voice.

"Well…" Marigold hesitated. She didn't really want to talk about it at all, but they were going to be taking care of her, so they deserved to know. She owed them at least an explanation.

Marigold took a deep sigh. "I already mentioned to you that I was homeschooled and not really allowed out of the house. To be honest, Mrs. Weasley, before Professor McGonagall came to get me, I hadn't left the house in nearly a month. Back when my mother still lived with us, she would take me on walks at night and read to me. But she left when I was seven, and my dad stopped letting me out of the house altogether.

"You see, my parents were very religious, and very involved with the church. They were constantly worried that I would use magic outside of the house and someone would see. Before my mother left, I was _usually_ just sent to bed without food or locked in my room, but after she left, my father got violent.

"About a week ago I broke his favorite mug and accidently used magic to fix it… that's how I got this." Marigold gestured to the bruise on her face. "When Professor McGonagall came by, he refused to let me go. But eventually, he told her to just take me, that he didn't want me. I don't really know much about magic; I was brought up to believe it was evil and wrong. I don't believe that magic is evil or wrong, but I am very nervous about it all."

Marigold was trembling and very near tears when she stopped talking.

"I see." Mrs. Weasley sighed, turning to her husband. "Well then, Marigold, you will be living with us until you go to Hogwarts, and then for the summers in between school years. There is a little Muggle village just a short distance from here. You will be allowed to go there any time you wish."

Marigold looked at her with wide eyes. Go to town? Leave the house whenever she wanted? It was too good to be true.

"Though, if you could tell us before you go, and possibly take one of the elder children with you, we would very much appreciate it. Just for safety's sake." Mr. Weasley smiled at her.

"Of course, thank you so much," Marigold said, beaming.

"As for what room you will be staying in, we thought we would give you Bill's old room, seeing as he's out of the house. I moved your things there while you were talking with Charlie. Oh, I forgot to mention, Fred and George do a ton of experimenting in their room, which causes a lot of exploding noises, so don't be alarmed. Their room is right below yours, so it might be a bit loud at times."

"I think that's all we have on our part," Mr. Weasley said, looking at his wife.

"Sounds about right. Dinner won't be for another couple of hours, so if you want, I can show you to your room?"

Marigold nodded and stood up. Mrs. Weasley led her through the living room and up a small flight of stairs. They eventually made it to a door, and Mrs. Weasley showed Marigold in.

It was a nice room; the bed was rather large and looked very comfortable. The desk was empty except for a couple of quills and a few pieces of parchment. There was a bookcase full of magical books that looked like they would be complicated to read. There was a small closet, which was empty; Marigold realized she didn't have many clothes to hang up anyway. Marigold's things were stacked neatly up against the wall.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley," Marigold said with a smile.

"Of course, dear. I'm going to go back downstairs. If you want, you can stay in here or go and hang out with the kids. This is your home now. You can act as freely as you want."

"Thank you, but I think I'm going to read over my books for school. It's never too early."

"Of course dear, just remember you can't practice any magic until you get to Hogwarts."

"Yes ma'am."

Marigold watched as Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the room, giving a small wave before closing the door behind her. Marigold looked around the room and broke out into a grin. Mrs. Weasley had told her she could act as _freely_ as she wanted; the choice of words was not lost on Marigold.

Marigold grabbed her planner, her journal, and her Charms book from her trunk and put them on the desk. She grabbed the quill and the gold ink and sat down. It had taken her a little while the previous night to get used to writing with a quill and ink, but she was fairly confident in her ability now.

She opened up the Charms book to the last chapter; it was easy enough to find where she had left off because there was a rather large drool mark on that page. She opened the journal and began to take notes.

Just because Charms was the first book she had read, that didn't affect how interesting Marigold found it. She had spent most of her childhood reading books and taking notes. It was one of the only things she could do back at home. She must have gone over the Bible a million times, she thought bitterly. But Marigold had the feeling that she could read _this_ book a billion times and it would still be interesting.

Marigold was just closing up the book about an hour later when she heard a knock on her door. She looked up in surprise and wondered which of the Weasleys it was. She got up and went to open the door. Standing in front of her were Fred and George with grins on their faces.

"Hi, Marigold," one of them said.

"We were wondering what you were up to," said the other.

"I was just studying," she mumbled. She felt slightly uncomfortable talking to more than one person on her own; after all, she was used to talking to just her dad.

"Oh really?"

"Need any help?"

"I think I'm okay, I just finished the Standard Book of Spells for my year." She very nearly smiled at them.

"Wait, didn't you get that book yesterday?"

"Yeah, I'm actually great at studying." She fidgeted with her locket. "And the book is really cool, I was just about to start another when you guys knocked." She was starting to relax a little; they seemed easy to talk too.

"Oh cool, well if you have any questions, Percy is your guy," one of them said, grinning.

"Alright, thank you." She smiled, and the two of them walked away.

Marigold closed the door. She put her Charms book and journal on the corner of the desk, then grabbed her Transfiguration book out of her trunk, as well as another journal to take notes in. She was well on her way in chapter three when another knock on the door nearly caused her to spill her gold ink.

She opened the door, and Ginny was standing in front of her, grinning. She seemed less shy than earlier.

"Hi Marigold, I'm Ginny. Can I come in?"

Marigold just nodded. Ginny hopped up on the bed, her feet dangling over the edge. Marigold sat on the desk chair and turned to Ginny, unsure what to say.

"It's nice to have another girl in the house," Ginny said.

"Right, it's just you and your brothers," Marigold said stupidly.

"Yeah, they are pretty cool. Do you have any siblings?" Ginny asked.

"No, it was just my dad and me." Ginny seemed easy to talk to, maybe because it was just the two of them.

"Oh, so this must be weird for you having so many people around." Marigold just nodded. "You'll get used to it. You never get lonely, that's for sure."

"That will be nice," Marigold mused.

"You know, Fred and George were right, you do look like one of us. I keep having this feeling that I've seen you before in a picture somewhere. But that would be weird."

"Yeah…" Marigold thought of how Hagrid and Mr. Ollivander had thought she looked like Harry's mom.

"Well I'm going to let you get back to whatever you were doing. I just wanted to say hi," Ginny said, hopping off the bed and walking over to the door.

Marigold went back to studying with a smile on her face. She could already tell that she was going to like it here at the Burrow. Even if she was a little bit awkward at conversation, they didn't seem to mind very much.

She spent the next few hours studying the art of Transfiguration. When Mrs. Weasley knocked on her door for dinner, Marigold was starving.

Dinner with the Weasleys was an ordeal. Mrs. Weasley had made Marigold a cake to celebrate her birthday. Everyone chipped in singing. Marigold felt a little nervous at the beginning, but by the time Mrs. Weasley told everyone to go to bed, she was happy and full. She was excited for Hogwarts and magic, but she was more excited to be living with the Weasleys.

After all, she did get a family for her birthday.

(Please take time and review. Special thanks to duskomybloom.)


	6. Confrontation on the Hogwarts Express

(Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K.)

Marigold spent the rest of the month of August at the Burrow. She spent most of her time studying, going through the books, and taking notes. Then reviewing the notes and the books.

She walked down to the Muggle village with Charlie twice. He had a lot of questions about Muggle things, and she did her best to explain them to him. She enjoyed spending time with Charlie. The two of them got along really well. They talked about dragons, mostly; Marigold found them fascinating, and Charlie was enthusiastic about explaining them.

About a week after she had moved in, Fred and George played a prank on her by filling her room with blue foam. She got them back by throwing gnomes in their bedroom. After that, the three of them got along quite splendidly. She had started noticing little differences between the two, and could somewhat tell them apart.

Ginny and Marigold talked a lot, and Marigold was allowed to borrow some of her clothes since they were about the same size. Percy stayed in his room most of the time, but when he came out, he bragged about being a Prefect, a very distinguished position at Hogwarts, according to him.

Ron didn't really talk to Marigold all that much. He didn't seem very happy that she was staying with them. When he did talk to her, he kept telling her about how cool it would be if Harry Potter were in their grade. He took it upon himself to explain who Harry was and why he was famous. He also told her why he figured Harry would be in their class. Marigold found it fascinating that the kid she met at Diagon Alley was famous. She elected not to tell Ron that she had already met Harry.

When he wasn't talking about Harry, Ron was complaining about his pet rat, Scabbers. Marigold would swear that the first time she saw the rat, it nearly had a heart attack. Ron thought she had done something, but all she had done was stand in the same room.

Mr. Weasley was at work most of the time, but when he got home, he was very nice to Marigold. She realized Charlie got his enthusiasm from his dad, because Mr. Weasley was very enthusiastic about Muggle things. He was always a lot of fun to talk to.

About a week before they were supposed to go back to Hogwarts, Charlie left for Romania. He promised Marigold he would write, and gave her a big hug. Sure enough, Marigold got a letter from an owl three days later. Charlie had also sent one to Mrs. Weasley, but he had taken the time to write to Marigold about Romania and how he had settled in. Marigold wrote back immediately.

The night before they were to head to Hogwarts, Marigold packed all her things. She was confident in what she had studied over the summer, but she was still nervous. She didn't miss her father at all; she hadn't even thought about him for nearly two weeks. But as she stared at her bedroom ceiling, she wondered if he missed her.

She decided that was too depressing of a topic and switched her thoughts to Hogwarts. She wondered if she would see Harry again, or maybe even Neville. She fell asleep and dreamed about what Hogwarts would be like.

Marigold woke up to the sound of knocking. She jumped out of bed and opened her door. Fred and George were standing there grinning.

"Rise and shine, Marigold," Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows in excitement.

"Time for breakfast!" George exclaimed.

"Alright, alright, let me get dressed." She smiled and started to close the door.

"No time!" they said at the same time.

The two of them picked her up by the arms and carried her downstairs. By the time they got to the bottom, the three of them were laughing. Fred and George nearly dropped her, they were laughing so hard.

The three of them made it to the kitchen table without any accidents and sat down. Breakfast was eggs and cheese with sausage. Nobody said anything as they scarfed down their food, but you could feel the excitement in the air.

After finishing her breakfast, Marigold ran back up to her room and got dressed. Her old Muggle clothes she'd brought with her were a little bit small; she had gained some weight while living with the Weasleys, enough so that when she tried Ginny's clothes a few days ago, even they didn't fit. She managed to fit everything in her trunk, but lugging it downstairs proved an ordeal.

Mr. Weasley had a blue Muggle car, and he used magic to fit all of their trunks in the boot, which on its own was very impressive. But according to Mr. Weasley, it wasn't a normal Muggle car; he had made a few revisions. He explained, as they drove to Kings Cross, that the car could fly and turn invisible.

When they finally got to the station, Marigold and the other kids loaded their things onto their own carts. Mr. Weasley decided to park the car, so Mrs. Weasley led the way through the throngs of Muggles. If it weren't for Percy's owl Hermes and Ron's rat Scabbers, they wouldn't have stood out too much.

Marigold had gotten somewhat used to being with the Weasleys, and she was relatively comfortable with going to the little Muggle village. But walking through Kings Cross station was making her very uncomfortable. Her hands were sweating and her heart was racing. She kept looking around thinking that everyone was staring at her because they could somehow tell that she didn't belong.

She caught sight of a familiar looking face and stopped walking; Ron nearly ran his cart into her. The boy she noticed had a very uncomfortable and worried look on his face, but she could recognize him anyway. She left her cart and walked over to him.

"Hi, Harry." She grinned at him. His face immediately relaxed.

"Oh thank goodness, Marigold. I was beginning to worry I would miss the train." His owl hooted in agreement.

"Don't worry. Come with me, we can go together."

Harry nodded and followed her back to the group of Weasleys who had been waiting for her. Mrs. Weasley smiled at Harry but didn't seem to recognize him; neither did Ron, for that matter.

"This is my friend, I met him at Diagon Alley. He's gonna tag along with us, if that's okay," Marigold said.

"Of course dear, it's not too much farther." Mrs. Weasley smiled, her eyes crinkling around the edges, and continued walking.

They walked a little ways farther, then stopped. Marigold wondered what they were looking for; she had forgotten to ask Mrs. Weasley.

"Alright, Percy, you first." Mrs. Weasley nodded to Percy, who, to Marigold's amazement, broke out in a dead run.

He was running directly towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Right as he was about to run into the wall, he disappeared though it. Marigold couldn't believe her eyes. He was running, and then he was just… gone.

She wondered if any Muggles had accidently leaned on the barrier and fell through. There was probably something in place to keep that from happening, but the thought was funny.

"Fred, you next," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George. Honestly, woman you call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"I'm only joking, I am Fred," Fred said, running off. George followed close after, and Marigold watched as they, too, disappeared through the barrier.

"So," Mrs. Weasley said, turning toward Harry. "What you are going to do is run straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop, and don't be scared you'll crash into it. Go on now, right before Marigold."

Harry just nodded. Marigold watched as he lined up his cart. He took one last look at Marigold, who smiled at him reassuringly, then started to run straight at the barrier. Marigold watched as he disappeared through it.

Mrs. Weasley told Marigold she could go, and Marigold lined up her own cart. She started at a bit of a walk, and by the time she was halfway to the barrier, she was running. The barrier was getting closer and closer. She was worried she would crash, but she reminded herself that the others had gone through. She blinked and she was through the barrier.

A scarlet engine was waiting next to the platform. Harry was turned toward her, grinning. Percy, Fred, and George were nowhere to be found. She assumed that they had gone off to find their friends. Marigold walked over to Harry and nearly hugged him. They had made it. They had also managed to find each other again. She was so happy she could barley contain it.

"Thanks, Marigold. I was really worried," Harry said, beaming at her.

"We keep showing up when one of us needs the other," she agreed.

The train whistled, and the two of them turned toward the compartments.

"Do you want to find a compartment together?" Harry asked, suddenly slightly nervous. He seemed worried she would say no.

"Sounds great, just give me one second."

Marigold turned around and found Mrs. Weasley. She was standing next to the entrance talking with Ron and trying to get dirt off of his face. Marigold walked over, leaving her cart with Harry, and got Mrs. Weasley's attention. She figured she should say her goodbyes now so that Mrs. Weasley could tell her children goodbye as a family.

"I just want to say thank you for letting me stay with you this month. I promise I'll write," Marigold said, trying not to cry. It had been the best month of her life and she was going to miss Mrs. Weasley. "Tell Mr. Weasley bye for me?"

"Of course dear, you have a wonderful time at Hogwarts." Mrs. Weasley wrapped Marigold in a hug. Marigold was still getting used to her hugs, but they always made her feel safe. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

She waved goodbye, then returned to Harry. As the two of them made their way toward the back of the train, Marigold wished she had several more sets of eyes. There were cats everywhere, owls hooting all over the place, and a ton of families saying their goodbyes.

They reached an empty compartment, and Harry put his owl in first. The two of them managed to get Harry's trunk in, and then Marigold's. After getting the luggage sorted out, Harry and Marigold settled down in their compartment.

"So how was the rest of your summer, Harry?" Marigold asked, turning to him. "You seemed worried about your aunt and uncle."

"It was actually not that bad, they mostly just pretended I wasn't there." He shrugged. "How was yours? Did your dad freak out about your magic when the professor took you home?"

"Oh, I, um… I actually didn't go home." Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "I actually went to live with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley was the woman who helped you through the barrier. I spent the last month with her, her husband, and their kids."

"Ah, you look a lot like them," Harry remarked.

The train lurched forward and began to move at a steady pace. Marigold looked out the window and saw Ginny running alongside the train, waving. Marigold waved back, but Ginny didn't notice; she was probably waving to one of her brothers.

Marigold wondered where the boys had gone off to. Percy was probably up with the other prefects, Fred and George were probably somewhere goofing off, and she had no idea where Ron would be.

"Did you manage to get any studying done?" Harry asked. He was absentmindedly petting his owl through the bars of the cage.

"Yeah, loads." Marigold beamed. "I took a ton of notes too, the books are fascinating."

"I didn't take many notes. Quill and ink are difficult, I kept smudging the ink," Harry said sheepishly.

"Ah, I did that too for a while. I think the only thing I miss from the Muggle world is a decent pen," Marigold said, laughing.

"I'm with you there, Marigold," Harry agreed.

"So what did you name your owl?" Marigold asked, looking at the snow-white owl in the cage.

"Oh, her name is Hedwig."

"Like from _A History of Magic_? I remember reading about her. She was a saint or something, right?"

"Yeah, I thought it was a cool name." Harry was grinning. Hedwig hooted in her cage.

Marigold smiled at Hedwig; she really was a pretty bird. Harry turned to look outside. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a bit. They both seemed confident that neither of them even really needed to say anything. Marigold grabbed her wand and her charms book out of her trunk. She put her hair up and stuck her wand behind her ear, opened the book, and began reading. She nearly had the book memorized, but it was still one of her favorites, so she read on.

Around half past twelve, their compartment door slid back to reveal a smiling, dimpled woman. "Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked.

Marigold recognized a couple of the candies on the cart. But Mrs. Weasley had packed her a lunch so she shook her head. Harry, however, jumped up and walked over. When he came back, his arms were full of sweets, which he dumped on the empty seat next to him.

"You are going to get either a stomach ache or cavities, probably both," Marigold teased.

"All the more reason to share, then," Harry said, throwing her a pumpkin patsy.

It landed on her charms book, which she had set aside. She put down her sandwich and grabbed the treat. She said thanks to Harry before digging in.

"What are these?" Harry asked, holding up a box of chocolate frogs. "They aren't real, are they?"

"No, just enchanted to jump. Ron really likes collecting the cards inside. He has a ton, he's only missing a few."

"So _this_ is Dumbledore," Harry said, opening up his card.

"Whoa, what does he look like?" Marigold asked. Professor McGonagall had mentioned he was the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

The two of them read over the little blurb on the back of the card. Apparently Dumbledore was famous for defeating a dark wizard named Grindelwald and working on alchemy with a guy named Nicholas Flamel.

Harry turned the card over and noticed that Dumbledore had disappeared. Marigold explained that people in wizard photos don't stick around, that they can move about.  
Harry had bought a pack of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. The both of them assumed that they were just like any other kind of jellybean, but they had been very wrong. They both took turns taking a bean and trying their luck. They both got mostly bad flavors like sardine and even dog food. Marigold managed to get a parchment flavored one, which wasn't all that bad; it tasted like how old books smell.

"Ew, Marigold, that's so gross," Harry said, laughing. "It's like eating paper!"

"Really good paper, Harry," she laughed back.

The two of them were interrupted when their compartment door opened again. It was a very round-faced boy. He looked very upset.

"Sorry," he said. "Have either of you seen a toad at all?"

"Neville?" Marigold asked, standing up.

"Oh, hi Marigold. It's nice to see you again," he said, sniffing.

"Did you say you were looking for a toad?" Harry asked, standing up.

"Er, yeah. He keeps getting away from me," Neville mumbled.

"Well, I'm sure he will turn up," Marigold assured him. "I'm pretty sure they sweep the train when we get to Hogwarts, make sure no students left anything. I'm sure he will turn up then."

"Yeah, that makes sense… thanks Marigold…" Neville turned to leave.

"Hey, why don't you sit with us?" Harry asked. "I have a lot of sweets. Marigold and I can't possibly finish them on our own."

Neville turned back around, and Marigold nodded to him. He made a feeble smile, then agreed. The three of them sat down in the compartment, and Harry tossed a sugar quill at Neville, who graciously accepted.

"I'm Neville Longbottom, by the way," Neville said, introducing himself to Harry.

"Oh, I'm Harry, Harry Potter," Harry said.

Neville nearly choked on his sugar quill. "Are you really? My Gran told me about you. Our parents knew each other."

"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, they both fought against You-Know-Who."

"Wow." Harry didn't say anything else.

"Um…" Marigold interrupted. "Who exactly is You-Know-Who? I heard my foster family mention him, and Ron kept telling me how Harry beat him. But I still don't really understand."

"Oh, well…" Neville hesitated. "You-Know-Who was a bad wizard, bent on destroying Muggles and Muggle-borns, as well as taking over the wizarding world. He went after Harry, and, well…"

"He tried to kill me, but couldn't. He managed to kill my parents, though," Harry finished.

"Oh… so there's a stigma against Muggle-borns in the wizarding community?" Marigold asked.

At that moment the compartment door flew open. The three of them jumped. Three boys entered, one with very blond hair and a pale, pointed face. Two very large, beefy boys stood beside him. The blond haired boy was staring at Harry intently.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're staying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry responded.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," the pale boy said, introducing his two goons. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Neville made a sound that seemed almost like a whimper. Malfoy turned his attention to Neville and laughed. "Well hello there, Shlongbottom. How's mum and dad?" He teased. Malfoy turned to Marigold and frowned. "And who are you?"

"Marigold Rosenberg." She had to keep her tone in check. She didn't like Malfoy. He had made fun of Neville.

"Ah yes, father told me about you. Apparently the Weasleys took you in, as if they had enough money to take care of their own kids," he sneered.

Marigold had to stop herself from jumping up; he just wanted a rise out of her, and she wasn't going to give him one. Malfoy turned back to Harry and smirked.

"You'll find out soon enough that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Marigold watched as Malfoy held out his hand to Harry. Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry said coolly.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Malfoy said, nearly blushing. "Unless you are a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang out with riffraff like Longbottom or the unwanted brat here, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Marigold and Harry stood up, Neville nearly tripped following them.

"Say that again," Marigold dared. She was very nearly shaking, but she wouldn't tolerate anyone bashing her family and friends.

"Oh, you are going to fight us are you?" Malfoy laughed at her.

"That's right," Harry said, his voice was shaking. "Unless you get out of here."

"What are you going to do? You have Longbottom, who's basically a squib…"

Malfoy didn't get to finish, because Marigold had pulled her wand out from her ear and pointed it directly at Malfoy.

"Get. Out," she hissed.

In the glass of the door, Marigold could see Harry and Neville looking at her with wide eyes, but she was focused on Malfoy and his goons. She wasn't sure what she was going to do if this turned into a fight, but she had nearly memorized all her books; she was sure she would think of something.

Crabbe and Goyle looked kind of intimidated; she was a head shorter than Malfoy and the two of them, but they still looked slightly frightened. Malfoy, on the other hand, just sneered.

"Didn't mum and dad ever tell you to choose your fights wisely? Or did they just not…"

Marigold waved her wand and pointed it at Malfoy and the other two. The three of them went crashing into the compartment door. Malfoy let out a muffled groan, and the three of them ran out the door. Malfoy threw an ugly look over his shoulder at Marigold, and then disappeared.

"Marigold…" Neville said, his voice filled with amazement.

"That was awesome!" Harry exclaimed.

Marigold smiled sheepishly. She put her wand back behind her ear. She had used the knockback jinx. She had read about it in one of the later chapters of her charms book.

"Marigold… you just did non-verbal magic. And on a Malfoy, no less," Neville said, staring at her in awe and a bit of intimidation.

Marigold blushed. "We should probably change into our robes," she said changing the topic. "We will probably be arriving soon."

Neville and Harry nodded. Marigold grabbed her uniform and made her way to a small bathroom nearby. She slipped into the pleated skirt and tights. She buttoned the plain white shirt and slipped on the jumper. With the robes on top, the whole ensemble was rather warm, but not completely uncomfortable.

She looked in the mirror, and the sudden realization that Hogwarts was only a few minutes away smacked her in the face. Charlie had mentioned they were sorted into houses. She wondered how they would be sorted. She had no idea what house she would be in. What colored tie would replace the black one she was currently wearing?

Would she be decked out in the red and gold of Gryffindor? Or maybe the yellow and black of Hufflepuff? Marigold knew Slytherin and Ravenclaw weren't in her future; neither of those houses appealed to Marigold.

Charlie had mentioned Ravenclaws were known for their bookishness, and he told her he thought she would do well there. But Marigold thought otherwise; books and studying had always just been a pastime, something to do to please her father or to just get done. Sure, she enjoyed learning, but she wasn't devoted to it.

Her stomach started to ache, and she realized she probably shouldn't have had so many sweets. She had already gotten into a fight; what if Malfoy told one of the teachers? Could she lose her scholarship over something like that?

She swallowed hard, stuffed her wand in her robes, and left the bathroom. When she got back to the compartment, she knocked, and Neville opened the door. He looked about as sick as she felt. Harry was better off, but he still looked nervous. Marigold put her charms book back in her trunk, then sat down.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."

Marigold felt the train slowing down; her heart sped up with each second the train slowed. When the train stopped, she couldn't feel her heart; it was beating too fast.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville got off the train. The tiny platform was lit only by the train carts, but was still very dark. The night was cold, but Marigold felt warm in the crowd of nervous students. Marigold noticed a lamp bobbing ahead, and heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Marigold saw Hagrid's face over the sea of heads. He seemed even taller than usual with no adult to compare him to. The group of first years followed him down a steep and narrow path. Once they left the platform, it got too dark to see. Hagrid's light wasn't bright enough to reach back to Marigold and her friends. So, the three of them blindly followed the students in front of them.

Marigold was so anxious about having so many people around her that she didn't hear Hagrid say anything; but a loud "oooh" caught her attention. So did the glittering castle across a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain, the towers were distinguished against the starry night sky. Marigold could feel the ancient magic radiating from the castle all the way on the shore. How many kids had gone through this castle, she wondered?

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called.

Marigold noticed a small fleet of boats bobbing just next to the shore. Marigold, Harry, and Neville climbed in. A girl with very bushy hair and rather large teeth climbed in with them, but didn't say anything.

Marigold looked excitedly toward the castle as it got closer and closer. She would be spending the next seven years of her life in this castle. As the boats drew nearer and nearer, Marigold felt something unidentifiable surge through her.

She felt her feet moving, wobbly, as she climbed out of the boat. As they climbed up a flight of stone steps, Marigold didn't dare breathe. When Hagrid knocked on the castle door, each knock reverberated in her heart.

She wasn't quite sure what came over her, but with each echo of a knock, she felt a strong sense of loyalty, near devotion, to the school.

(AN: The non-verbal spellwork will crop up again. But it will take time before she is good at it. This was a bit of a fluke starting out. I hope you liked it. Thank you solbabylove for the amazing cover art. And thank you duskomybloom for all the editing. Please review!)


	7. An Old Hat Decides the Future

(An: Sorry it took so long to post, I was home for the weekend and spent time catching up on the two last James Bond movies. Hope you like the chapter; everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

The front doors to Hogwarts swung open immediately. Marigold could feel the magic pulling them in. Standing in front of them was a tall, stern looking witch in emerald robes. Marigold smiled up at Professor McGonagall.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here."

Professor McGonagall opened the doors wide, and Marigold and the other students walked through them. Once inside, Marigold was amazed at how large the entrance hall was. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, so the light flickered on the other student's faces. A magnificent marble staircase towered over them, leading to the upper levels of the castle.

They followed the professor across the flagged stone floor. Marigold heard chattering through a doorway on the right, but Professor McGonagall showed them into an empty chamber of the hall. They were all standing very close together, and Marigold accidently elbowed Neville.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin momentarily. But before you can take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be like your family. You will do everything with your House: attend classes, sleep in your dormitory, and spend free time together in your House common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history. While you are here at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded with the House Cup, a great honor.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the whole school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Marigold watched as the professor scanned the cluster of first years. Her eyes lingered on Harry, who tried to flatten his hair, and Marigold, before continuing on.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Professor McGonagall left the chamber and the whole group let out a breath of relief. Marigold realized how intimidating the professor was.

Marigold wondered how they sorted them; she hadn't thought to ask Charlie when the two of them spoke of Hogwarts.

Marigold noticed that the bushy haired girl that was on the boat with them was muttering frantically to herself. Harry looked a bit ill, and Neville looked terrified. She caught both of their eyes and gave them reassuring smiles.

Marigold herself was nervous, but she also felt like whatever it was they had to do, she could do it. She had already gotten into a fight, made two new friends, and made it to Hogwarts. Sure she was scared, but everything was going to be fine.

Nevertheless, Marigold found herself fidgeting with her locket. She wondered again why she kept wearing it. She kept putting it on every morning without fail. Fidgeting with it had become her go to source of comfort when she was scared or nervous.

Marigold was in her own little world when the sound of screaming caused her to nearly jump. Out of impulse she went for her wand, but stopped when she realized there was no danger. Floating up above the group of first years were two ghosts; they were pearly white and slightly transparent. They seemed to be arguing.

As fascinating as Marigold found the two ghosts, she found it even more fascinating that her first instinct had been to go for her wand. She usually ran from danger. She had run away from her father more times than she could count. So what was it today that made her feel like fighting? Was it having magic on her side and a bit of knowledge on how to use it?

Marigold looked to Harry and Neville, who were staring up at the ghosts with shocked expressions. Could it be that she had a reason to stay and fight?

She shook her head; she was a first year, and she had been extremely lucky with Malfoy. Whatever it was that made her go for her wand was just a fluke of a reflex.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," Professor McGonagall said. She had appeared sometime during Marigold's internal conflict. "Now form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years.

Marigold found herself huddled between Harry and Neville. They shuffled forward as the other students followed Professor McGonagall out of the chamber and through a pair of double doors.

The room was lit with thousands and thousands of tiny candles; they were hanging over four long tables, which were filled with hundreds of students. The tables were covered in gold plates and goblets that reflected the ceiling above them. Marigold looked up and was amazed to see the night sky up above; thousands of stars twinkled back at her. It was hard to tell there was even a ceiling above them.

The group stopped in front of the table of teachers. They turned toward the rest of the students, and Marigold felt the hundreds of eyes slipping over her and resting on Harry, as if they could recognize him from where they sat.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of them and set down a pointed wizards hat. It was patched and frayed and looked very dirty. Marigold wondered what the hat had to do with the sorting.

Marigold watched in amazement as the hat twitched. A rip near the bottom opened wide like a mouth, then to her astonishment it began to sing.

 _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Stet Gryffindor apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just as loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _SO put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap._

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables then became still again.

Marigold smiled weakly. All they had to do was try on a hat; it was going to be much easier than she thought it would be. But the Sorting Hat had said a couple of things that made her nervous. There was nothing hidden in her head it couldn't see? She had a lot of memories she would rather not share.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

Marigold watched as Professor McGonagall called the names of students. The hat would call out the name of the house to the rest of the school, and the student would run to the cheering table. She watched as the bushy haired girl, Hermione Granger, became a Gryffindor. A few more names were said then the professor called for Neville.

Neville walked up, glancing back at Marigold, nearly tripping in the process. He sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. Marigold felt anxious, the hat was taking a rather long time to decide. When the hat finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it and had to jog back. Marigold cheered loudly.

Marigold watched as Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed "SLYTHERIN!" and Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking rather pleased with himself.

A few more names were said, then, "Potter, Harry!"

Harry walked forward toward the stool; Marigold heard whispers erupt throughout the entire hall. Marigold watched as the hat slipped over his eyes. She watched his fingers go white as he clung to the stool. The hat took a long time deciding with Harry. Several minutes passed and the whole hall had gone silent, it was as if nobody was breathing. Finally the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and the room went mad.

Marigold laughed as Fred and George chanted, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" She watched as Harry sat down and a ghost patted his shoulder.

When the room quieted down, Professor McGonagall called out the next name. "Rosenberg, Marigold!"

Marigold inhaled sharply and made her way over to the hat. As the hat slipped over her eyes, she could feel it moving, as if it were getting comfortable atop her head.

"Well hello," echoed a small voice in her ear. "You are interesting. Troubling childhood, but you persevered. Plenty of talent… a girl of _few words_ , oh yes… but where shall I put you?

"Your friends are in Gryffindor, you say? Your _loyalty_ to two people you barely know is most interesting. Maybe Hufflepuff would do you kind. Oh, but to survive how you have for so long takes _courage_. But which is more suitable for you? Let's go with… GRYFFINDOR!"

Marigold heard the last word hollered to the rest of the hall. She got up and put the hat back on the stool. She nearly ran to the Gryffindor table. Fred and George high-fived her and Percy smiled. Harry and Neville were grinning at her as she sat down across from them.

Gryffindor table was joined a few minutes later by Ron, who sat down next to Hermione. The sorting finished a few names later, and Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll. Everyone's attention was turned toward the front table; Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. Marigold recognized him from his chocolate frog card.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat down, and Marigold clapped out of courtesy. She didn't really understand the Headmaster. She stopped clapping when she noticed one of the teachers staring at her. He had greasy hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. He was looking at her so intently, it was almost as if he thought that if he blinked she would disappear. She felt slightly uncomfortable and looked away.

Marigold noticed that the table had been filled; she had never seen so much food. She grabbed some carrots, mashed potatoes, and roast chicken. Marigold looked over to Harry and found him staring at a ghost, whose head was dangling by a thread. She dropped her carrots.

Marigold didn't look up from her food again until it disappeared from their plates. A moment later desserts appeared; Marigold stocked up on strawberries and Jell-O. As she played with her Jell-O, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," sandy haired Seamus Finnigan said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'till after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."

Everyone laughed.

"What about you, Marigold?" Seamus asked, through a mouthful of pudding.

"Muggle-born, didn't really know until a month ago," she answered vaguely.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.

As Neville explained his Gran and his Great Uncle Algie and how he had been thrown out a window, Marigold ate with wide eyes. Harry, Marigold noticed, was looking up at the high table. He hissed and clutched at his forehead.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Marigold asked.

"N-nothing," he said, a confused expression on his face. He turned to Percy and got his attention. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrel? The one with greasy hair?"

At the description Marigold perked up, she was wondering who that teacher was.

"That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to. Everyone knows he's after Quirrel's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Marigold looked back up at the teacher's table. Professor Snape was no longer looking at her, which Marigold was very happy about.

At last, the desserts, too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feat again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem. Just have a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Marigold would swear he was looking at Fred and George. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Marigold heard many students laughing, but Dumbledore didn't seem to be joking. She wondered what could be on the third floor that would kill students. And why on earth would it be kept in a school?

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Marigold watched as Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it. Marigold was impressed when the ribbon twisted into large golden words.

Marigold looked around as everyone sang the lyrics suspended in the air. The teachers were singing, but they had no enthusiasm. The students on the other hand had varying degrees of enthusiasm, with the Fred and George singing to a slow funeral march.

Professor Dumbledore excused them all, the first years followed Percy though the chattering crowds and out of the Great Hall. Marigold was tired and more full than she had been since her first week at the Weasleys. Harry was trudging along beside her, his eyes were droopy and his legs looked stiff. Neville was on the other side of Harry and was walking even slower.

Marigold wondered how much farther they needed to go. The crowd of first years wasn't bothering her like most crowds, probably because they were tired and stuffed and not paying her any mind. But at the same time, she still felt slightly uncomfortable. When they came to a sudden halt she bumped into the student in front of her.

A bundle of walking sticks were floating in midair ahead of them. Marigold watched as Percy took a tentative step toward them. The sticks started throwing themselves at him and he jumped back.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to them. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves, show yourself."

A loud farting sound replied and Marigold nearly laughed. Nearly.

"Do you want me to get the Bloody Baron?" Percy warned. Marigold remembered the Baron mentioned at dinner, and she hoped Percy didn't need to get him…

With a pop, a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared. He was floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooh!" he cackled. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped at them and they all ducked; Marigold looked at Harry and Neville, who just shrugged back at her. They looked much too tired to really care.

Percy warned Peeves again. Peeves just stuck out his tongue, then disappeared, dropping all the walking sticks on Neville and Harry who grunted in response. Marigold could hear Peeves zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy said, as he led on.

Marigold helped Harry get Neville out from under the pile of walking sticks, and then the three of them went after the rest of the first years and Percy. At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. Marigold thought the woman was very beautiful with her hair done up, but she heard Ron sniggering somewhere in front of her.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said.

The portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. The circular room was cozy and warm. A very large fireplace covered one section of the wall, and the rest were covered in moving pictures and scarlet tapestries. Large squishy armchairs were scattered here and there, and several desks and tables were nearby.

Percy directed the boys to one staircase, and the girls through another. Marigold said goodnight to Neville and Harry, then followed the girls up the spiral staircase. They were obviously in one of the towers Marigold had seen from the black lake. She found several doors all with names on them. She finally found hers and went through. Five four-poster beds hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Marigold saw that her trunk had already been brought up.

Four other girls were in the room with Marigold; she recognized Hermione Granger, but not the other three. When she closed the door they all looked up. Marigold awkwardly grabbed her pajamas out of her trunk and changed in the bathroom. When she came back out the four girls were sitting on their beds laughing with each other.

"Hey there," Hermione said, looking over to Marigold.

"Hello," Marigold mumbled. She walked over to her bed and sat down. She slipped her wand under her pillow, then turned to the other girls.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, grinning. "This is Lavender Brown, Fae Dunbar, and Parvati Patil." Hermione pointed to each of the girls as she introduced them, and each of the girls waved at her.

"It's nice to meet you all, I'm Marigold Rosenberg."

"Oh my gosh, I recognize you now, you were sitting and talking with Harry Potter at the feast!" Lavender squealed.

"Merlin's pants!" Fae exclaimed. "You know Harry Potter?"

"Um, yeah. I met him a month ago at Diagon Alley," Marigold said.

"I heard he was on the train…" Hermione said. "I read all about him… he's famous."

"Super famous, defeated You-Know-Who when he was a baby," Parvati agreed.

"I heard he hexed a kid on the train today, just for bothering him," Fae whispered.

"Wait…" Marigold tried to interrupt.

"I heard it was thee boys and Harry jinxed them for no reason," Lavender murmured.

"No, I…"

"Well I heard…"

"Guys, wait!" Marigold yelled. All the girls turned to her, surprised looks on their faces. "Harry didn't do that! I did!"

"Sure you did," Lavender said sarcastically.

"No really. Look, Harry, Neville Longbottom, and I were minding our own business when Draco Malfoy and his two goons came in. Malfoy said some nasty things about Harry and then wouldn't leave us alone… I jinxed him, not Harry."

"What could you do? I mean, no offense, Marigold, but you are just a first year. How could _you_ jinx someone?" Lavender asked.

"Well, I didn't mean to, it just kind of happened," Marigold muttered. Why didn't they believe her?

"So what did you use? To jinx Malfoy?" Fae challenged.

"The knockback jinx…"

"How did you manage that?" Hermione piped up. "I mean, that's a spell in the later chapters of the Charms book…"

"It kind of just happened…" Marigold could tell that they didn't believe her.

Hermione was frowning at her, and Marigold could tell she was silently judging her. Lavender frowned too. Parvati and Fae just looked at each other.

"You know, if you really did jinx a student, you would have gotten in a lot of trouble," Hermione said.

"But I…"

"Hermione's right …" Fae agreed.

"Fine," Marigold frowned. "It's amazing that you thought Harry did it for no reason, but when _I_ actually do it you don't believe me… fine." Marigold could feel herself blushing. She was upset at them for spreading rumors about Harry, but she was also upset that they didn't believe her.

Marigold grabbed her curtains and started to close them, but stopped. "You know, Harry is just a normal guy. He wouldn't appreciate the rumors."

Marigold closed the curtains with a huff, then curled up under the sheets. She wondered if Harry and Neville liked their new roommates. She wondered if they were still up talking or if they had gone to sleep.

Marigold fell asleep and dreamt about Harry and Neville and an adventure that had something to do with the greasy haired professor who had been looking at her during dinner.

(AN: Thank you duskomybloom for editing. Please leave reviews, I love hearing about what you think.)


	8. A Hectic First Day

(An: For the sake of the story and my own bias, the classes will not be the same as Canon. After all, why would Hogwarts have Potions only once a week? Anywho, if you want to have a copy of the classes for your own personal reference, message me and I will send you a copy. As always, everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Marigold woke up feeling vaguely uncomfortable. She knew it had something to do with the dream she had, but she couldn't quite remember what she had been dreaming about. It was six in the morning, a whole hour and a half too early for breakfast.

She listened to the soft noises of the other girls sleeping and remembered the conversation the five of them had last night. She hoped they wouldn't be upset with her; she really wanted friends, and fighting wouldn't make them. She pondered going back to sleep, but she knew she wouldn't be able to; she was too excited for her first day of classes.

She decided to get up and shower in the dormitory bathroom. After combing her hair and putting on her robes, she grabbed her wand out from under her pillow and stashed it in her robes. She quietly grabbed the planner Professor McGonagall had given her and made her way down to the common room.

The room was exactly as she remembered it; the excitement of being there last night hadn't glorified the room at all. Marigold sat down in a plush chair across from the large fireplace. Her handwriting was still flashing _No Homework Due_ on the cover of the planner. Apparently the magic of the binder lasted longer than average batteries; she wondered if the enchantment would stay all year. She hoped so; she was planning on relying on the planner a lot.

Marigold had spent a lot of time over the summer trying to figure out how the planner worked. She even tried reading over the old books Bill had left behind, but none of them shared any insight. She wondered where Professor McGonagall had even purchased it.

Marigold looked away from the planner and stared at the fireplace. The red and gold twinkling fire danced across her eyes, the heat providing a wonderful substitute for her bed covers.

At about seven, some of the older students came down the stairs. She fought the urge to sink down and hide in the chair cushion. Fred and George came down, but didn't notice her; they were talking to a rather attractive looking student about Quidditch. She fondly remembered Fred and George explaining the game.

Marigold waited as several more students came down. Fae and Lavender frowned at her. Hermione waved, and Parvati smiled. It was nearly seven twenty when Neville and Harry came running down the stairs, looking quite frazzled. Marigold jumped up, nearly causing the two of them to have a heart attack, and Neville panicked so much he fell over.

"Morning guys!" she laughed.

"Blimey, Marigold, I know you are an accomplished duelist, but could you try not to kill Neville?" Harry snickered.

"Sorry Neville," Marigold said, helping Harry help him up.

"It's alright, we just thought you would be at breakfast already." Neville brushed himself off.

"Nah, waiting for you guys." Marigold grinned. The three of them made their way out of the common room and down the corridor.

They arrived in the Great Hall only a couple of minutes late. Marigold saw that some of the teachers were eating breakfast at the head table. Professor Dumbledore was noticeably absent.

Marigold sat down at the Gryffindor table and grabbed some toast and eggs. When she looked up, she caught the eye of Malfoy, who just glared at her. Marigold ignored him and went back to talking with the boys.

A little ways into breakfast, owls came hooting out of nowhere. She heard one of the older students mention that it was about time for the mail. Marigold wondered if Charlie had sent her anything. Sure enough, a very familiar looking owl dropped two letters in front of her. One was from Charlie, and the other was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Marigold read over the one from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley first. They had congratulated her on getting into Gryffindor, and they mentioned that they had told Bill and Charlie as well. They told her to keep in contact, and that if she needed anything all she had to do was ask.

Marigold smiled and stuffed that letter in her planner. She opened the one from Charlie and read it as well.

He also congratulated her on making it into Gryffindor. He asked if she had made any friends, and if she was having fun with her roommates. He mentioned that they got a new batch of dragons the other day, and that he was excited to work with them. He told her to write back as soon as she could, but not to let it interfere with her classes.

Marigold was happy. She stuffed that letter into her planner as well and continued eating her eggs.

When they were done with breakfast, Professor McGonagall came by and handed them their schedules. The schedules barely looked put together; Wednesday was very hectic, and Friday was virtually free.

"Hey, Harry?" Marigold tried to get his attention.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up from his own schedule.

"Are Muggle classes set up like this?"

"Kinda. I mean, we usually had the same classes every day. This just looks thrown together."

Marigold nodded. She entered her classes into her planner. As she did, Harry and Neville went through what they would need for classes and when they had time to make it to the Gryffindor Tower to pick up and drop off books. Marigold finished copying her schedule and closed the planner. _No Homework Due_ disappeared and was replaced by a list of her classes. She assumed that her homework would flash next to the name of the class.

Marigold listened to Neville and Harry as they explained the plan for picking up and dropping off books between classes. Because they had different classes every day, they would have to grab different books at different times. She agreed that the way they figured it out would be the best, grabbing two books at a time so they didn't have to make so many trips. After all, they may have fifteen minutes to get to and from classes, but the castle was huge, and Gryffindor Tower was, well, a tower. Just too many stairs and too little time.

They finished breakfast with extra time, so they went back to their dorms and got their Herbology and Charms books. They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first thing. As they made their way out to Greenhouse One, Marigold noticed that wherever Harry went, whispers followed.

Harry looked noticeably uncomfortable, and Marigold wished she could do something. But there wasn't much she could do about the whispering and pointing of a hundred students. Luckily, most were still finishing up breakfast or getting their own books.

When they got outside things were better, as there was nobody around. Marigold heard Harry breathe a sigh of relief.

"You alright, Harry?" Neville asked, beating Marigold to the punch.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hope they stop soon. Apparently, the school is basically alive, and we will have to worry about moving staircases and trick doors. How am I going to be able to jump a vanishing step with a sixth year 'ahh'ing at my scar?" he grumbled, trying to flatten his hair.

"Imagine walking through a ghost because some fifth year wouldn't stop asking you about You-Know-Who," Neville agreed.

"Or ending up on the third floor because some fourth year idiot wants an autograph." Marigold nodded.

"I'd be right salty about it if that happened." Harry laughed, then stopped. "You don't think anyone _would_ want an autograph, do you?"

"I don't know, Harry. The thought did cross my mind the first time I met you," Neville teased.

Harry fake groaned, then smirked at the two of them. All three of them laughed the rest of the way to the greenhouse. When they got there, there were only a few other students, some of which were sporting the yellow and black of Hufflepuff. Hermione was among them, talking to a few of the girls about some plant she read about in one of the books she bought and how she hoped they would someday get around to learning about it.

Neville, Harry, and Marigold stood next to the long table in the center of the room. Marigold opened up her book to the first chapter and skimmed through it while talking with Harry and Neville.

A little while later, a plump, grey-haired witch shuffled into the room. She had kind brown eyes and a warm smile; she reminded Marigold of Mrs. Weasley. Out of instinct, she looked for Ron and found him standing next to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Marigold turned back to the smiling witch.

"Good morning, class. Welcome to Hogwarts, and welcome to Herbology." Her voice was cheery and bubbly. "In this class, we will be focusing on magical plants and fungi. But don't worry, you will be able to use your wands as well. I'm going to take roll, so raise your hand when your name is called."

Professor Sprout spent the next few minutes calling out the names of students. Every once in a while, her eyes would get a little sad, and Marigold wondered why some names had that effect. When she got to Neville, she had a watery smile. She stopped for a moment when she noticed Marigold and Harry standing next to him. It was only a moment's pause, but Marigold noticed. She wondered if anyone else did.

When Marigold's name was called moments after the pause, Professor Sprout smiled at her. It was a really sad smile, as if she were trying to smile at someone else. Professor Sprout moved on, calling Harry's name next. She had a similar sad smile, but instead of trying to smile at someone else, Marigold could tell the smile was directed at Harry.

The rest of the class was spent with Professor Sprout explaining the different kinds of magical plants. The students took notes, and her sad watery smiles didn't appear again. Professor Sprout was a great teacher; she called on students and awarded points when they got the answer correct. Marigold got a point for knowing how to properly get rid of a Spiky Bush by use of the fire-making spell. Hermione received a point for explaining what a Spiky Bush is used for.

Professor Sprout explained that they would be working with Spiky Bushes starting Monday of next week, and that for the rest of this week they would be learning how to properly and safely cast the fire-making spell.

She let them out of class with an extra ten minutes to spare, telling them that finding classes the first day had always been a bother for her. Marigold packed up her things and noticed that _Learn Fire-Making Spell_ was flashing on the front of her planner right next to _Herbology_. She wondered how that had happened.

Marigold followed Harry and Neville out of the greenhouse; she smiled back at the professor, who waved. Marigold ducked out of the room and caught up with Neville and Harry.

"So what do we have next, Harry?" Neville asked. He was shuffling with his books, trying not to drop them.

"Double Charms with the Ravenclaws. It's in the South Tower."

"I'm glad Professor Sprout gave us extra time then," Marigold mused. She noticed Neville was about to drop one of his books; she managed to catch it before it landed in a puddle of mud.

"Geez, thanks Marigold," Neville mumbled, taking the book back.

"No problem, Neville. You know, we could probably get bags for these. I saw some of the third years wearing bags."

"That's a good idea, Marigold. Maybe over Christmas break," Harry agreed.

The three of them talked about Herbology all the way to the Charms classroom. They arrived with a bunch of other first year Gryffindors, but some had gone back to their dorms to grab their books.

Marigold noticed that some of the Ravenclaws were pointing at Harry, and she just rolled her eyes. After a little while, a rather small man walked into the room. Marigold would have assumed it was a student, except for the fact that he had a moustache. Marigold and the other students quieted down while they watched him climb atop a mountain of books.

"Welcome to Charms! I'm Professor Flitwick," he said with a squeaky voice. "Before we do anything else, let's take roll."

As the professor took roll, Marigold noticed that her roommate Parvati had a twin sister in Ravenclaw. It was after her name that Professor Flitwick got to Harry's. When he read it out, he made a squeak and fell off his pile of books. The whole room erupted in laughter, but Harry, Neville, and Marigold just sighed. Marigold nearly smacked her forehead with her hand, but managed to stop herself.

After Harry's name had been called, it was Marigold, then the rest of the students. Nothing more eventful happened during roll call, or the rest of the class, for that matter. Professor Flitwick told them that they would not be practicing magic in the classroom until he was satisfied they knew all their magical theory by heart. That earned a lot of groans from various students.

For the rest of the double class, they worked in teams, filling out questions the professor had created. They were allowed to talk to each other and use their copies of _Magical Theory_ and _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_.

At the end of class, the professor collected their parchment, and they were all let out for lunch. Marigold was glad the only homework he gave them was to review the books, and _Review_ was flashing next to _Charms_ on her planner.

Harry, Neville, and Marigold switched out their morning class books for their afternoon class books in their dorm, then raced down to the Great Hall. Marigold was starving, and she was pretty sure it was Neville's stomach that was making gurgling noises.

The three of them sat down at the Gryffindor table, loading their plates with sandwiches and filling their goblets with juice. Naturally, talk turned to the classes they had just had.

"So, Neville, what did you think of Herbology?" Harry asked.

"Um… I don't know. I liked all the plants in the greenhouse, and Professor Sprout seemed nice. But we didn't really do much. We did get four points for Gryffindor today though, so that was nice."

"How about you, Marigold?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I liked the plants alright, but I was never any good at taking care of them at home… The professor was nice, but she seemed kind of sad during roll call."

"Did she?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, I caught that too," Harry agreed. "When it got to the three of us, she looked like she wanted to cry a little bit."

"Oh…" Neville sighed. He looked as if he might know why, but he wasn't going to say anything about it.

"What about Charms?" Marigold asked, changing the subject.

"I can't believe the professor fell off the stack of books," Harry very nearly groaned.

Neville laughed. "And here we were worried about the _students_ giving you problems."

Harry just laughed in response. "Thanks, Neville."

"Any time, Harry." Neville grinned.

After lunch, the three of them looked over their schedules again. They had History of Magic, then Defense Against the Dark Arts. Marigold was looking forward to Defense; it was one of the more interesting books she had read over the summer.

The tree of them arrived a little late to class after Neville realized he had grabbed the wrong book before lunch. Luckily enough, the class had been easy to find, and they were even luckier still that the teacher didn't seem to notice their tardiness. Marigold and the others quickly and quietly took their seats; Marigold recognized a few of the Hufflepuffs from Herbology.

Marigold was initially excited to realize that their teacher was a ghost; but Professor Binns had a monotone voice, and the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 was just too boring. Marigold found herself doodling on her History journal. She made a note to study this subject on her own after realizing that if every class was like this, she would most likely not learn anything at all.

Fifteen minutes into class, she lazily turned to Harry and noticed he was dozing off; Neville, on the other hand, was awake, but his eyes were glazed over. Marigold made another note to help them with their studying in this class.

When it was finally time to go to their next class, Neville was easily roused. But it took both of them shaking Harry for him to finally wake up. The three of them made their way to their Defense class; Harry kept yawning all the way, which was starting to make Marigold a little drowsy.

When they got to the classroom, Marigold was nearly knocked over by the strong smell of garlic that wafted through the room. The three of them took their seats, ignoring the glares from the Slytherin students. Harry explained to the two of them that he had already met Professor Quirrell.

The actual professor was nothing like Harry's first impression of him; Marigold soon found out that this class was an even bigger joke than History of Magic. Professor Quirrell believed in magical theory more than actual defense like Marigold thought the class would focus on.

The whole class period, they talked about how the professor had acquired his turban from an African prince. According to the professor, he had gotten rid for a troublesome zombie for the prince, though Marigold wasn't sure if she believed him. Her doubts increased when Seamus Finnigan asked the professor how he had fought off the zombie, and the professor changed the subject to the weather.

By the end of class, Marigold realized she would probably have to teach herself the class material. Not because she couldn't pay attention like in History of Magic, but because Professor Quirrell had told them they would only be doing theoretical magic. Marigold felt that Defense Against the Dark Arts should be just that: defense.

When they left class, the three of them made their way toward their dormitories. They were talking about how nice having a free period was when they turned the corner and found themselves face to face with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Hello Potter," Malfoy sneered.

"Malfoy," Harry said coolly.

"Enjoying your newfound popularity as the school mascot?"

"I don't know, Malfoy, are you enjoying being just another student in a school that doesn't know your name? Or are you used to being obsolete?" Harry asked, a look of mock confusion on his face.

"Ohhhh!" Marigold high-fived Harry, who didn't even look away from Malfoy.

"This isn't over, Potter," Malfoy said, and walked away.

"Always fun talking to you!" Harry called after him.

"Oh my gosh, Harry," Neville said over Marigold's laughter.

"Harry, that was amazing," Marigold said through bits of laughter.

"Thanks, guys," Harry said, chuckling.

The three of them walked back to the Gryffindor common room laughing. Harry wanted to go exploring the castle with their free period, but Marigold insisted they start their homework, knowing they wouldn't want to do it later. Harry reluctantly agreed, so the three of them grabbed their books and a seat by the fireplace.

They used Marigold's planner to determine their homework, as Neville's handwriting was nearly illegible, and Harry didn't write anything down at all. The only real homework they had was learning about the fire-making spell, which they decided to do first, seeing as all their other homework was just to review.

"So, the spell is in both the Herbology book and the Charms book," Marigold said.

She was sitting on the floor in front of the fire with both books and her journals open. She had moved so she could have enough room for her stuff. The boys were sitting on the comfy chairs, thumbing through their Herbology books.

"Is there any difference between the two?" Harry asked, putting down his book.

"No, the incantation and the wand movement are the same. It's just that the Charms book goes into more detail on how to cast it, and the Herbology book lists the different uses for it in relation to different plants and fungi."

"Did Professor Sprout want us to practice the spell, or just read about it?" Neville asked.

"She probably wanted us to just read and learn about it. It is fire, after all. She said we would be learning how to properly and _safely_ cast it. I mean, we probably _could_ practice it," Marigold said.

"Do you think we should?" Neville asked.

"It's not like we have any other homework, I mean, just review," Harry shrugged.

"We do still have about forty five minutes before dinner." Marigold shrugged. "And we can always work on review after."

"Lets do it." Harry grinned.

Neville hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

"Alright then," Marigold said.

Marigold grabbed her Herbology book and closed it; she ripped a page out of her journal then closed that, as well. Leaving the piece of paper and the Charms book on the floor, she put everything else up on the couch next to the boys. She crumpled up the piece of paper and put it on the floor in front of her. She could tell that the boys were wondering what she was doing.

"Okay," she said, grabbing her wand out of her robes. "The incantation for the fire-making spell is _incendio_ , pronounced in-SEN-dee-o," she read out of the Charms book. "While saying the incantation, 'draw' a candle flame with your wand."

"That doesn't sound too difficult," Harry said, retrieving his own wand from his robes.

"So what's with the crumpled up piece of paper?" Neville asked, whilst rummaging through his own robes for his wand.

"Well, I was thinking we could take turns trying to set it on fire using the spell." Marigold shrugged.

"Oh, alright," Neville said.

The three of them spent the next forty minutes trying to set the piece of paper on fire. Neville managed to get the paper to smoke. Harry was able to set it on fire. But Marigold wasn't able to change it at all. When the three of them left for dinner, Marigold kept her frustration to herself.

All during dinner, she kept very quiet. She had been sure she would be able to at least get the paper to smoke. She had preformed a near perfect knockback jinx on Malfoy, and that had been her first use of magic. How could she not get the paper to burn?

Harry and Neville talked with Dean and Seamus during dinner. The two other boys had gone exploring during their break. Marigold only half listened as the four boys exchanged stories of their afternoon.

Apparently, Dean and Seamus had run into Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris. The two of them went too close to the third floor and were chased away. When the two boys heard about how Harry had set a piece of paper on fire, they were thoroughly impressed.

Slightly salty about her own incompetence, and the whole situation in general, Marigold excused herself from dinner early. She told the boys she would be studying in the same place, and that when they came back, they could study together again. They nodded, then went back to their conversation.

As Marigold left the Great Hall, she felt slightly uncomfortable, like she was being watched. She paused at the door and turned around. It took her a moment to realize that one of the professors at the head table was staring at her.

Marigold's eyes met those of Professor Snape. She felt as if he were looking through her instead of at her, as though he were trying to see someone else but could only see her. He seemed to realize she had caught him staring, and he flicked his eyes toward one of the other professors.

With an uncomfortable shudder, Marigold turned around and left the Great Hall.

(An: Tune in next time for more homework, Malfoy, and Potions class. A very special thank you to duskomybloom, and to those of you who have commented… you keep me writing.)


	9. Slimy Walls and Slimier Teachers

(A/N: Second day of school! Today on Marigold Rosenberg and the Boy Who Lived: fire, matches, Potions, and oh no, Snape! As always, everything you recognize belongs to the amazing and talented J.K.)

Marigold woke up on the second day of school earlier than she had on the first. Her eyes were watery; she had stayed up late writing letters to Charlie and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She rubbed her eyes and got out of bed, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. It was barely pushing six when she finished her shower and put on her uniform. She grabbed her wand and one of her journals and went down to the common room.

She knew she had double Herbology first thing after breakfast, and she assumed that they would be learning about the fire-making spell. After the boys had returned from dinner, they had reviewed their books, but had not gone back to trying to set paper on fire.

When she got to the common room, she sat down in front of the fire and ripped out a page from her journal. She crumpled it up and set it down in front of her. She held her wand out in front of her and cleared her throat.

" _Incendio_ ," she said, waving her wand.

Nothing happened, and Marigold frowned.

" _Incendio_ ," she said again, making sure she pronounced it correctly.

Again, nothing happened.

About an hour later, the page began to smoke a little. Marigold beamed; she was getting somewhere. It took another fifteen minutes before the page lit on fire. Marigold cheered as the orange and red flames consumed the page. It wasn't a very strong fire; it didn't crackle like Harry's had, but it was still a fire.

She was beginning to rip out another piece of paper when she heard someone coming down the stairs. When he hopped off the last stair and into the common room, Marigold recognized him from the morning earlier. It was the attractive boy that Fred and George had been talking to. He noticed her sitting by the fire and stopped walking.

"Hello, I'm Oliver Wood," he said.

"Marigold Rosenbreg," she mumbled back. She felt herself blushing, though she had no idea why.

"Really? Percy mentioned you." He noticed she looked confused. "We share a dorm," he explained.

"Oh, right, sure," she said.

Marigold heard the footsteps of several other students making their way down to the common room.

"Well, I'll see you at breakfast," he said with a smile.

Marigold just nodded in response. She watched as Oliver Wood joined the other students and left the common room. She decided she was done practicing magic for a while.

Marigold ran back to her dorm to grab her books and planner, then went back and waited for Harry and Neville. Her roommates came down together, but Hermione was walking a little farther behind the other girls.

Marigold remembered that Hermione had annoyed the other three by staying up nearly all night studying and reading. Apparently, they were still upset. Marigold gave Hermione a little wave, and she smiled feebly back.

Harry and Neville came down a little while later, books in hand, and the three of them headed down to breakfast. Nothing interesting happened while they ate. No mail arrived, either. Marigold had yet to send off her letters; she would probably have to do it in her short break before dinner.

After breakfast, the three of them walked down to the Herbology greenhouse together. Harry and Neville were excited to start practicing the fire-making spell; they wondered if anyone else in the class had bothered to practice it. They wondered if they would get points for Gryffindor if they proved they could cast the spell.

"Don't worry, Marigold," Neville said, turning to her. "You will probably be able to cast it today. Professor Sprout probably has a few tricks on how to cast it."

"Oh, that's alright. I managed to cast it this morning, I forgot to mention it…" Marigold said.

In all actuality, the conversation with Oliver Wood had made her quite frazzled, and she had spent most of breakfast trying to keep her eyes on her plate instead of searching the table for him.

"Wait, really?" Harry asked. "When did you have time to do that this morning?"

"I woke up really early and practiced non stop." Marigold shrugged.

"Oh, cool," Neville said.

When they got to the greenhouse, a few other students were standing around the large table. They had double Herbology today, which meant standing around that table for two whole hours, with that thought her legs started to ache.

Professor Sprout walked in just as class was due to start. She told them all to open their books to page twenty-three while she took roll. Marigold heard a sniffle beside her and turned to Neville. He had a frown on his face and looked really sad; Marigold noticed he had somehow managed to grab his History of Magic book.

"Don't worry, Neville," Marigold whispered. "You can use my book, I already know the spell by heart."

Before he could whisper anything back, she quickly swapped books. She heard him whisper thanks, and she just smiled in response.

"Alright class," Professor Sprout said after finishing roll. "Without looking at your open books, who can tell me the proper way to cast the fire-making spell?"

Several hands shot up into the air. The professor called on one of the Hufflepuff students.

"You need to 'draw' a candle flame with your wand as you say the incantation," the student said.

"Very good, two points to Hufflepuff. For the first part of class, we will be practicing the wand movement and the incantation separately. After that, we will be practicing setting small twigs on fire. Tomorrow, we will be practicing on Spiky Bushes, and the first student who manages to destroy their Spiky Bush will be awarded ten points for their House.

"Alright, now, take out your wands and try 'drawing' a candle flame. Yes, that's right. Seamus, dear, not so spiky. Candle flames are wider than that. That's it."

They spent the next forty minutes 'perfecting' their wand waving. Professor Sprout walked around to each of the students and gave them pointers; some were barely 'drawing' whilst others were 'drawing' the wrong shape.

When she got to Marigold, she told her to bend her elbow more, not to lock it in place. Marigold made a note in her Herbology journal, _body language and arm position affect the casting of a spell_. Professor Sprout said the same thing to Neville and Harry; in fact, the only person who didn't need any help was Hermione Granger.

The next forty minutes were dedicated to the correct pronunciation of _incendio_. Professor Sprout explained that there were three versions of the spell: _incendio, incendio duo, and incendio tria_. Each spell would create fire, but the intensity of the flames would increase with each version. Marigold made a note to try the other two spells at some point.

In the last forty minutes of class, the students were given a stack of twigs on a flame-resistant tray. Hermione was able to successfully cast the spell her second try, her flames dancing around on the twigs. She earned Gryffindor two points.

It was a lot easier for Marigold to cast the spell after the hour and a half she spent learning it. She managed to get the twigs to smoke after her first incantation, and by her second incantation, the twigs were sparking, but not lit. On her fifth try, she managed to produce very weak flames. They barely rose an inch off of the twigs.

Harry managed to cast a very strong set of flames about twenty minutes later. Neville managed to get his twigs to smoke early on, but flames didn't appear until around the same time as Harry's.

Marigold stared at Harry's flames and wondered if there was something wrong with her wand. His flames were leaping off the twigs. She looked around at the other students who had managed to produce flames. Hers looked right pathetic.

Marigold went back to casting, but did it half-heartedly. Maybe her magic was different because she was Muggle-born? No, Hermione was too, and her magic was brilliant. Marigold looked over to Hermione, who was arguing with Ron about something to do with him nearly setting one of her books on fire.

By the end of the class period, half of the students had managed to create fire. The other half had managed to either create sparks or smoke. Everyone left the greenhouse rather excited.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville made their way back to the castle; Marigold's planner flashed _Practice Harder_. The three of them talked all the way to the Transfiguration classroom. They very nearly got lost, but a helpful painting told them to turn around. They managed to get to the classroom and sit down with two minutes to spare.

The classroom was very large and surrounded by high windows. The room had several cages filled with odd birds, and the chalkboard at the front of the room was large enough that Marigold was sure she could sit outside and still be able to read it.

The moment the last student sat down, Professor McGonagall, who had been leaning on her desk, stood up straight and began talking.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Before her warning had any time to sink in, Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at her desk and transformed it into a pig, then back again. Marigold sat wide-eyed; she hadn't realized her respect and admiration for the professor could get any higher.

"Now, don't get ahead of yourselves," Professor McGonagall said after all the students had calmed down. "That was very advanced magic. You won't be learning how to change furniture into animals for quite a while."

And with that, she turned around and started writing down notes on the blackboard. Marigold copied down all the notes as fast as she could. She also wrote down things the professor said. After the professor had written what seemed like an entire chapter, she passed around matches to each of the students.

"What you are going to do is simply say the incantation. As you do so, flick your wand as if you are striking a match."

The class nodded in understanding, but Marigold could tell they were all just as confused as she was. Marigold closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would be able to do this.

She opened her eyes and stared down at the match. She picked up her wand and cleared her throat.

" _Acus_ ," she quickly flicking her wand as if she were striking a match.

For a moment the match flickered silver, but nothing happened. Marigold perked up; something had happened on her first try.

By the end of the class, Marigold's match was silver. It was still very much a match (when the professor struck it, it lit up), but it was still silver. The only other person who managed to do anything with their match was Hermione. Her match was silver and pointy, and looked exactly like a needle. It still lit when it was struck, but Hermione was awarded a rare smile from the professor.

Marigold went to lunch feeling very happy with herself.

After lunch they had double Defense. Marigold spent the class period passing notes with Harry and Neville. They made fun of the professor, and called Malfoy a git. Marigold told them she was thinking about recruiting Fred and George for a prank of epic proportion; Harry though it was a brilliant plan, and Neville agreed to go along with it as long as they didn't get in trouble.

Marigold didn't mention how she wasn't looking forward to Potions class. After they got out of Defense class, they made their way down to the dungeons. Marigold was feeling really uncomfortable, and, out of habit, she grabbed her locket. She didn't realize she was rubbing it until Neville made a face. _I have to stop wearing this_ , she thought.

"Well, I can see why Malfoy's in Slytherin," Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows. "He's just about as slimy as these walls."

Marigold snorted. Leave it to Harry to make her feel better.

The three of them made it to the classroom and sat down. The room was freezing, and the slimy walls would have made things creepy enough, but there were also about a hundred jars of pickled animals stacked on the walls. Marigold was pleased to see that Malfoy was eyeing the jars with a look of disgust.

Everyone waited patiently for Professor Snape. Nearly a minute after classes were supposed to start, he still hadn't shown up. Marigold was beginning to wonder where he was when the classroom door burst open and Professor Snape strode in, his robes billowing out behind him like a cape in the wind.

Marigold gulped. Professor Snape took a roll of parchment out of his robes and started calling off names. His voice was different than Marigold had imagined. It was quieter, not as scary sounding as she had assumed it would be. When the professor got to Harry's name, he paused. A sneer crossed his face.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new… _celebrity_."

Marigold could hear Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggering from up front. Marigold just glared at Professor Snape. It was one thing to stare at her and make her slightly uncomfortable, but it was something else entirely to make fun of her best friend in front of the whole class.

"Marigold Rosenberg?"

Marigold raised her hand, still glaring at the professor. His eyes widened in response, either because he how had a name to put to the face he had been staring at, or because she was glaring at him with such intensity. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but Marigold glared harder and his cold black eyes flicked back to his list of names to continue taking roll.

When he was done, he set the parchment on his desk and turned to the class.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and the exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition…" he paused to look at Malfoy, then Marigold could swear he looked over to her. "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind, and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Silence followed his little speech. Out of the corner of her eye, Marigold could see Harry and Neville exchanging looks. Marigold, on the other hand, didn't look away from Professor Snape.

"Potter!" Professor Snape said suddenly. Harry nearly jumped at his name being called. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Marigold recollected that those were two ingredients for a powerful sleeping potion, though she didn't remember the name. Harry looked confused.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered.

Snape's lips curled into an ugly sneer. Marigold frowned even more.

"Tut, tut… fame _clearly_ isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand and didn't seem to notice that Marigold was gripping the side of the desk so hard her knuckles were white.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high as it would go, but Snape didn't notice, or care. Marigold couldn't remember if it was a stone taken from the stomach of a goat or a sheep; not that knowing mattered. If she raised her hand, Snape wouldn't call on her.

Marigold looked away from the professor and toward Harry. She knew by looking at him that he didn't have any idea what a bezoar was, let alone where to find one. Marigold looked away and noticed that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with laughter. Marigold turned back to Harry.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Marigold had lost all feeling in her hands, and she was pretty sure she was breaking the table, or, at the very least, leaving nail marks. She knew for a fact that Harry had read through the books. Marigold caught a glimpse of Neville on the other side of Harry; he was looking at the professor with wide, terrified eyes.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Marigold heard Hermione's chair fall over as the first year had jumped up. Marigold knew that they were the same thing; she wished she could motion to Harry to help him, but her nails were dug so far into the table that it would take a miracle to pry them out again.

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Marigold did not. Snape was very obviously not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you copying all this down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

The professor turned and saw that Marigold was glaring at him. He noticed that her nails were digging into the desk. The wrinkles in his face from frowning disappeared as he looked at her; the uncomfortable feeling came back, but Marigold did not look away.

"You know, Miss. Rosenberg, if you keep digging into the table like that, you are bound to hurt yourself."

Marigold ripped her nails out from the wood; her fingers cracked when she flexed them, and went a bit numb with the sudden rush of blood.

"Thank you, professor," she said coolly.

Things didn't improve as the lesson continued. Snape lectured the class about how different materials had different affects on a potion, and how the freshness of ingredients and the way things were added changed the potency. He didn't write anything down, and though he talked rather slowly, he was very quiet, which was difficult as sometimes the scratching of quill on parchment drowned out what he was saying.

When they all left, he told them to re-read chapters one through three, saying they would have questions to answer on Thursday and a practical on Friday. Marigold, Neville, and Harry left the classroom rather upset.

The three of them spent the rest of the night quizzing each other on what they had read in potions; they had no intention of repeating what had happened to Harry.

Wednesday came and went. In Herbology, it was Seamus Finnigin that managed to set his Spiky Bush on fire first. He was awarded ten points for Gryffindor House, and a trip to the hospital wing, as he had caused the plant to explode burning himself in the process.

Astronomy class was at midnight on Wednesday, making it the only class the three of them had only once a week. They had very nearly missed it due to Harry being unable to wake up. Marigold had waited for the two of them in the common room for a long time before running to the boys' dormitories to find Neville shaking a drowsy Harry. It took Marigold shrieking at him for him to finally stumble out of bed. As it was, the three of them were fifteen minutes late.

By the end of the double Transfiguration on Thursday, Marigold was able to turn her match into a needle. Her happiness in her accomplishment managed to last through History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. But when Potions rolled around, it would have taken transfiguring a thousand matches into needles to keep her happy.

Professor Snape was a tyrant when it came to Harry and Neville. When it came to Marigold, he was just creepy. To be honest, she would much prefer tyranny to the general creepy vibe she got.

When she wasn't in classes, Marigold spent all of her free time studying with the boys or practicing magic. It wasn't hard to tell that her magic was weaker than both of theirs. Harry took a long time to learn a spell, but once properly cast, it was effective. Neville took even longer to learn a spell, but when he managed to cast one correctly, he was usually able to do it again on the first try with varying degrees of effectiveness. As for Marigold, it was nearly impossible for her to cast a spell; when she did, it was weak, and there was no guarantee that she could cast it again.

Harry and Marigold complained to each other a lot about which one of them hated Snape more. Neville never really joined in; it was rather obvious that he was terrified of the professor. When conversation was not centered on Snape, the three of them often talked about other students. Marigold would tell the boys about her roommates, who still didn't really like her, and Neville would try and find nice things to say about his and Harry's roommates, and Harry… well, Harry would complain about Malfoy.

When Thursday night rolled around, Marigold was curled up in her bed, looking forward to having the entire Friday afternoon off. Unfortunately, before having a free afternoon, she would have to endure double Potions. And it was going to be a practical day; they were going to be brewing a cure for boils. All sorts of things could go wrong.

With a sigh, she rolled over and closed her eyes; she would just have to wait and see. After all, Snape was already the worst. What more could go wrong?

(A/N: Stay tuned for more Snape, uncomfortable situations, and… what? Dumbledore? As always, thank you duskomyboom for editing, and thank you for reading. Please leave reviews; I love hearing what you have to say.)


	10. Bad Words, Boils, and Bullies

(An: Here we are, folks. Can things get worse for our heroes? Of course they can, it's Marigold Rosenberg and the Boy Who Lived. Besides the story has already been written once, you must know trouble is never far at Hogwarts, especially with Dumbledore involved. As always, everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K.)

Marigold woke up rather late Friday morning. She was the last one in her dorm to get up, and she had to race through her shower and getting dressed, which was fine and all, but it took her a couple tries to get her tie tied.

When she finally made it down to the common room, she was happy to find Harry and Neville waiting for her. They both had frowns on their faces, and she wondered what was wrong.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," she said, jumping off the last step. "What's wrong? You look upset."

"Oh, nothing," Neville said, somewhat forcefully.

"Come on, Neville, we agreed we would show her," Harry said.

"Show me what?"

Neville turned to Harry and shook his head. Harry gave Neville a look saying _we got to_. Then Neville just sighed.

"Here," Neville said, handing Marigold a piece of parchment. "We found it in the spot you usually sit in when you wait for us to come down."

Marigold looked down at the paper. There was a crude drawing of what she assumed was supposed to be her, and the words: _What do Marigold and a Gnome have in common? They are both pests and can't do magic._

"Pftt," Marigold snorted. "This is hilarious," she said, looking up to Harry and Neville.

"It is?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Absolutely." She nodded, slipping the paper in her planner. "I wonder who drew it… oh well, let's go to breakfast before all the good food is gone."

Marigold led the way to the Great Hall. She knew that the two of them didn't believe her when she said the note was funny, but it really was. Marigold was used to verbal abuse; her dad had been a pro, after all. And this bit of bullying was _weak_ in comparison.

What was funny was how hard the person had tried. Marigold assumed the parchment was from one of her roommates. After all, she had been keeping them up late, and they had assumed that she lied to them the first time they met.

She doubted it was Hermione; the two of them had been shunned by the other three and had been talking recently. She didn't think it was Parvati, either; she didn't really care about Marigold, and she also didn't seem like the type to leave notes lying around. She was the kind of girl who would say something to your face. That left Fae and Lavender. Marigold was sure it was one of them.

When they finally made it to the Great Hall, they were only fifteen minutes late; the mail hadn't even arrived yet. The three of them sat down and grabbed some food. A few minutes later, the mail arrived. Marigold got a letter from Charlie, and another letter from… Headmaster Albus Dumbledore?

Marigold immediately ripped open the letter and read it over carefully, making sure to not miss a single word. Everything around her seemed to melt into static.

 _Miss. Rosenberg,_

 _I would like to formally invite you to my office Saturday morning at around ten thirty to discuss the terms of your scholarship. I would also like to discuss how your classes are going and how you like the school. I look forward to meeting you; I have heard a lot already and would like to put a face to your name._

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _P.S. To get to my office, go to the second floor and find the Gargoyle statue. The password is Acid Pops._

Marigold felt ill. Meet the headmaster? Albus Dumbledore himself? How could she just casually meet a guy who had been on a chocolate frog card? He said it was to just talk about school, but he also said he had heard a lot about her… who had been talking about her with the headmaster?

Marigold heard her name being called and looked up. Harry and Neville were looking at her with concern.

"What's up?" she asked. She opened up her planner and wrote down the time and place she was supposed to meet with Dumbledore.

"I just got a letter from Hagrid asking if the three of us wanted to go down for tea today after class," Harry said.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds like fun," she answered, closing the planner.

 _Scary meeting, Saturday at 10:30_ , flashed on the front of her planner, below her list of classes. Marigold wondered where the planner was getting its sense of personality.

After breakfast, the three of them hurried down to Potions class. None of them wanted to be late. Ron had gotten lost the second day of class, and Snape had taken a point away from Gryffindor.

As they descended the stairs, it got colder and colder. Marigold was shivering by the time the reached the bottom. Harry and Neville looked uncomfortable, too, but neither of them was shivering, so Marigold wondered if they were just nervous about class. She knew she was.

The three of them sat down at their usual table, and Marigold smirked at the nail marks. When Professor Snape waltzed into the classroom, the conversations died down immediately. He took roll, but didn't look directly at Marigold when he called her name.

For the first hour of class, Professor Snape gave them a set of questions to fill out. It felt like a quiz because they couldn't talk or use their books. Marigold knew about ninety percent of the questions, but some of them were worded oddly. She looked up only a couple of times. She was relieved to see that Malfoy had a look of constipated confusion. Unfortunately Neville had the same look on his face.

Toward the end of the first hour, Marigold felt someone staring at her. She looked up, thinking it might be Malfoy, but she made the mistake of looking at Professor Snape. She realized he had been looking at her. Her stomach whirled, and she felt very awkward. She looked back down at her test and tried to ignore the fact that he was still looking at her.

At the end of the first hour, Professor Snape collected their answers, then set them to work on a cure for boils, partnering them up. Harry and Neville were partnered up together, and so were Marigold and Dean Thomas. Hermione and Ron were together, and Marigold noticed that Ron did not look at all happy about it.

Marigold and Dean divvied up the responsibilities and set to work making their potion. Marigold would read off some of the procedure, and Dean would follow the instructions; then they would switch. Marigold found that Potions was somewhat easier than Charms or Transfiguration. It was like cooking… with very weird ingredients.

"We need to heat the mixture at two-forty, for ten seconds, then wave a wand over it," Marigold read. "You should do the wand waving part," she said sheepishly.

"Alright, you sure?" Dean asked, taking out his wand.

"Yeah, I'm like a gnome when it comes to magic," Marigold said, chuckling.

"What?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"Nothing. I'm sure."

After Dean waved his wand over it, they had to leave it for thirty minutes. During that time, Marigold and Dean talked a lot. She found out that he was a really cool guy. Neville had told stories, Dean being one of the roommates, but actually talking with him was fun.

He asked about the gnome comment again, and Marigold showed him the piece of parchment. He thought it was rather rude, and she explained she found it hilarious. Snape came by, seemingly curious as to why they were defiling his classroom with laughter. Marigold quickly hid the picture, but Snape had seen it. He didn't say anything though.

Marigold and Dean also talked with Harry and Neville, seeing as the four of them were stationed next to each other. But when the thirty minutes were up, Marigold and Dean went back to their potion. When they had finished, the fumes were slightly purple instead of pink. The two of them were confident they would get a decent grade though.

Dean was pouring the contents of the potion into a vial when Marigold's arm started to burn. Somehow, Neville had melted his and Harry's cauldron, and all three of them were covered in potion.

Neville cried out in pain as red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Harry also hissed as boils erupted all over his arms. Marigold breathed in and out, trying to ignore the fiery sensation on her arm. Neville started crying, and Harry was breathing heavily. Students were screaming and jumping on their stools.

Professor Snape appeared out of nowhere.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled at Neville, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered in response, tears dripping down his pimple covered face.

"Go to the hospital wing, the both of you," Snape hissed at Harry and Neville. "And a point from Gryffindor for your stupidity and disruption."

The two of them ran out of the room. Marigold could hear Neville crying. She was so mad she couldn't even feel her arm anymore, but tears threatened at her eyes.

Professor Snape turned and caught sight of her gripping her own arm. Worry flicked over his face for less than a second before his usual angered wrinkles returned. "You go as well. That looks painful," he said before turning his back to her.

Marigold huffed and gathered up her and her friends' books under her good arm, then left the room. She made it up and out of the dungeon before crying out in pain. The boils on her arm were bursting and hurt worse than the time her father had broken her arm.

When she made it to the hospital wing, she dropped all the books on the ground. The lights were too bright, and she was dizzy. The matron was franticly tending to Harry and Neville, dabbing at their boils with a cloth. Neville was blubbering, but the pimples seemed to be healing, at least. Harry was sniffing, but not crying. His eyes were red though.

She staggered toward the matron, who noticed her and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Finish with them first," Marigold exclaimed when the matron turned to her. "They are covered! I'm fine for a few more minutes," she lied.

The matron nodded, then went back to dabbing the two of them with the cloth. Apparently it had gone dry, so she poured some potion on it; Marigold assumed it was the same potion the three of them had been working on in class, just correctly brewed.

When Harry and Neville were boil free, the matron finally turned her attention to Marigold, who, at that point, was crying. The moment the damp cloth touched her skin, Marigold sighed with relief. It took a considerably shorter amount of time for Marigold to be free of her boils, seeing as only one arm was covered.

When they were all cured, Madam Pomfrey, as she introduced herself, told them they would be fine. She told them they could stay and rest if they wanted, but they decided to just go down to Hagrid's. Class had already been over for a while, and they had agreed to meet Hagrid right after class. Madam Pomfrey agreed to let them go.

None of them said anything as they picked up their books and left the hospital wing. In fact, it wasn't until they were outside the castle and halfway to Hagrid's that Neville started crying again.

"I'm so sorry, you guys," he wailed.

"It's alright, Neville," Harry reassured him.

"N-no it's not," he wailed, "I melted your cauldron and I ended up hurting you two. Snape was right, I am an idiot!"

"Hey, don't you listen to Snape," Marigold said. "Neville… Neville look at me." He looked up at her, his eyes puffy and red. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Listen to me, Neville. Snape is a creep and a terrible teacher. You are not an idiot. It was a mistake, it could have happened to anyone. Besides, Harry and I are going to be fine. You are okay too, right? No permanent harm done."

"You aren't mad at me?" he whispered.

"Of course not," Harry said. "As Marigold said, Snape is a git, and this was an accident."

"So… we can still be friends?" Neville mumbled.

Marigold was shocked that he would even worry about that. She dropped his hand and wrapped him in a hung, surprising him and Harry both. "Of course we can still be friends, Nev," she said. She let go of him a minute later. "Now, let's go down to Hagrid's."

"Okay," he said, rubbing away his tears.

The visit with Hagrid was a nice relief after dealing with Potions class. Harry told Hagrid about what had happened, and Hagrid had to be reassured several times that the three of them were ok. He then proceeded to offer them rock cakes, which nearly broke Marigold's teeth.

Neville seemed to really like Fang, Hagrid's huge dog. And Marigold really liked Hagrid's hut. It was warm and cozy, with hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling.

The three of them drank tea and ate the rock cakes as they talked about the rest of their week. Harry explained to Hagrid that he thought Snape hated him. Hagrid assured him Snape didn't, but he didn't meet Harry's eyes when he said it.

Marigold told Hagrid about how creepy Snape was, which was the first time she had brought it up with anyone in detail. Apparently Neville and Harry had noticed, and they agreed with her. They even shared some instances where they had caught him staring at her, or just acting differently around her compared to other students. Hagrid tried to assure them that they were imagining things… Marigold could swear he was avoiding telling them something.

Hagrid changed the subject, and he and Marigold talked about Charlie and dragons. A little while into the two of them discussing the Chinese Fireball, Harry interrupted.

"Hagrid!" Marigold noticed he was holding up a newspaper. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday. It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid very obviously didn't meet Harry's eyes. He just grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry met Marigold's eyes and she knew he would want to talk about this later.

They stayed at Hagrid's for a long time, missing lunch in favor of staying with him. They finally did leave when Marigold reminded them that they had homework. The three of them went back to the common room.

Marigold saw Dean Thomas in the common room, and he told her they had received high marks on their cure for boils. She wasn't surprised; their potion had been nearly perfect.

Marigold returned to her spot by the fireplace and sat on the chair across from the boys. Harry told them about his trip to Gringotts and his theory about the break in. Marigold and Neville agreed that something suspicious was going on, though they had no idea what.

They also agreed with Harry that Hagrid knew something about Snape that he wasn't telling them.

The three of them ended up finishing their homework for the weekend that night, working several hours before and after dinner. Each of them had to be reminded to keep working several times, as they agreed that they didn't want to do homework over the weekend. So when they finally finished their essays and review they were tired but content.

The three of them had also practiced casting magic. She was still improving, even over the last twenty-four hours. Maybe it was the amount she was practicing, or maybe it was that she just needed to keep at it. Even though it wasn't exponential improvement, it was improvement.

The odds of her successfully casting a spell were getting better; it wasn't as difficult as it had been yesterday or the day before. If she kept at the rate she was going, she was sure she would be able to cast a spell her first try in a matter of weeks.

Unfortunately, her success rate wasn't the only problem. Though that was improving, the potency of her spells was not. They were still weak in comparison to Harry and Neville's.

When she went to sleep Friday night, she wondered what it was that was holding her back. She was happy she was making progress, though. She had been doing homework non-stop and casting magic all night; she had been so busy that she forgot to be nervous about her meeting with Dumbledore the next day. In fact, she had completely forgotten about the meeting altogether.

Marigold was standing in front of a really ugly looking gargoyle statue.

She had woken up this morning like any other morning: early. She had gone to breakfast like normal. Malfoy had laughed at her, Harry, and Neville. Not an every day normality, but normal enough. After breakfast, the three of them went back to the common room and talked until it was time for her meeting. They had offered to walk with her to the meeting, but she told them she would be fine.

And she was.

She had found the statue easily enough, but now that she was here, she was nervous. All she had to do was say the password, but she felt stuck. He had already heard about her; what if she was nothing like what he had heard? What if she made a bad first impression?

Marigold sucked in a breath. "Acid Pops," she said.

At first, nothing happened; then the gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a slowly ascending spiral staircase. With a shaky breath, Marigold jumped on. When the staircase finally stopped, Marigold walked the rest of the way and found herself in front of an old oak door.

Right as she was about to knock on it, it swung open, revealing a rather large room with moving portraits hanging all over the walls. She quietly walked in and looked around. Several spindly tables with silver devices and other kick knacks were scattered all around the room. The sorting hat was perched atop a bookshelf lined with more books than Marigold could count.

But what caught Marigold's eye was a beautiful red and gold bird sitting atop a perch. It had long, gold tail feathers and black eyes. Marigold realized she was holding her breath, and she let it go.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" a soft voice asked.

Marigold jumped; she turned to see Dumbledore standing a little ways left of the bird. Marigold just nodded when she realized he had asked her a question.

"Fawkes is a phoenix. When they die, they burst into flames and are born from the ashes… not so dissimilar from yourself." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Marigold wondered what he meant. "You are lucky to see him when he is so beautiful. A couple more weeks, and he will start losing his feathers."

Dumbledore sighed wistfully and took a seat behind his desk. Marigold turned to face him, still wondering what he meant when he compared her to the bird.

"I can see why he likes you," Dumbledore said. Marigold got the feeling he didn't mean Fawkes.

"Well, Professor McGonagall tells me you have been made aware of your scholarship situation. And I can tell by the way the teachers talk about you that your grades wont be an issue in the future. Though, I have been informed you have been practicing magic in your dormitory and in your common room, is that correct?"

"Yes sir, though I didn't realize that was against the rules."

"Oh, it's not. I'm just curious as to why you spend hours practicing a single spell. Most first years don't have that kind of determination. You have made quite the impression on your Prefect."

"Oh, well… I am having a bit of trouble producing magic…" she mumbled.

"Is that so? Well, most first years have trouble, it's part of learning."

"With all do respect, sir, the students in my year have already gotten past most of the initial troubles. They are proficient in casting the spells they have already learned, having trouble only with spells they are still in the process of learning. I'm having trouble with spells I already know.

"My success rate is getting better, sir. But I'm still not in league with the other first years. When I do manage to cast a spell, it's not as effective. The only strong spell I cast was one on the Hogwarts Express…" she stopped talking, realizing she could get in trouble if he found out about that.

"I see," Professor Dumbledore said. He had a twinkle in his eyes. Marigold got the feeling that somehow he knew about the incident on the train.

Marigold watched as Professor Dumbledore stood up. He walked over to the bookshelf with the sorting hat on it.

"I have an idea," he said, tracing the books with his finger. "If you would humor an old magician," he pulled out a book, "I would like you to look over this."

Dumbledore handed her an old leather-bound book. The pages looked old and the cover was worn. Marigold read the cover and looked up at the professor, who smiled down at her.

"The _Duelist's Guide to Nonverbal Spellwork_? But sir, I am hardly able to cast normal spells. How can I be expected to do such advanced magic?"

"I have a hunch," he replied, his eyes sparkling.

"A hunch…" Marigold repeated skeptically. She remembered Dumbledore's speech at the start of term feast. She wondered again if he was just a bit mad.

Dumbledore sat down at his desk again and looked to Marigold.

"Sir…" Marigold hesitated. "Is this about what happened on the Hogwarts Express? Because that was a bit of a fluke."

"My dear Miss. Rosenberg, I suggest you reflect on your time as a witch. Very rarely do flukes crop up. I am quite certain that if you look back, you will find at least _something_ that will help you realize this book is a good investment."

Marigold paused for a moment; she caught sight of the Sorting Hat and remembered what it had said to her. _Plenty of talent… a girl of few words…_ Marigold thought back even farther, to Mr. Ollivander the wand maker. _Alder and phoenix feather… we can expect great things from you… very loyal wand type… reputation for picking the most advanced witch… suitable for nonverbal spell work…_

Marigold looked up to the professor. He was smiling, and she smiled back.

"Thank you Professor Dumbledore," she said, clutching the book tight against her chest. "I will read it and get it back to you soon."

"No need, you can have it. All I ask in return is for you to write me every once in a while, telling me how you are doing with the book. Maybe tell me about your friends sometimes. You wouldn't believe how boring it gets up here."

"Thank you, sir." Marigold smiled. Professor Dumbledore dismissed her, and she turned around and left the office.

Marigold found it odd that he would want her to write him. But she appreciated the book. As she walked toward the Gryffindor common room, she wondered what Harry and Neville had gotten up to. She made it halfway there before she remembered she had a letter to send out. She turned around and headed toward the Owlery.

Since the Owlery was in the east tower, and the Gryffindor common room was in the west tower, Marigold had to walk back across the school to get there. The walk was pleasant and calming after the nerve-wracking experience of meeting the headmaster. Everything was going fine until she turned a corner and found herself in an almost empty corridor.

Marigold wished it really were empty, because the only other student in the corridor was Draco Malfoy. Marigold groaned when she saw he had noticed her. She made her way to the end of the corridor, hoping Malfoy wouldn't say anything to her; what he was doing up here without his goons, she had no idea.

"Hello, Rosenberg," Malfoy sneered as she walked past.

Marigold ignored him.

"Hey, Rosenberg, didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to ignore people?" Malfoy asked, tagging along behind her.

Marigold sighed, but ignored him still.

"Rosenberg, what's it like being shadowed by Crybaby and Boy Wonder?" Malfoy mocked.

Marigold stopped in her tracks; he had gone too far again. She turned around and glared at Malfoy. "I would rather be shadowed by my two best friends than be seen in the light next to a prat like you."

"A filthy Mudblood like you would never be seen next to someone like me," Malfoy seethed, though his ears had turned pink.

"Malfoy, there is nobody around to hear your insults or laugh at how clever they may be. I have no intention of going at it with you, so please, just leave me alone."

And with that, Marigold continued on her way. She heard Malfoy mutter something else, but she eventually heard him walking in the other direction. Marigold didn't know what Mudblood meant, though it didn't sound good.

When she got to the Owlery, she grabbed the letter out of her robes. Before sending it off, she quickly asked Charlie what the word meant, then resealed the letter. She found the owl she had been using, attached the letter, and watched as the bird flew away.

She figured Charlie was a good person to ask what Malfoy had meant. She didn't say who had said it, or that they had said it to her; she merely asked what it meant. If she went to Harry and Neville and the word ended up being super bad, they would want to know who had said it. And Marigold had no intention of telling them and having them go off to Malfoy, giving him the satisfaction of thinking that he had gotten to her.

Marigold waited until the bird disappeared into the sky. As she walked back to the Gryffindor common room, she wondered again what Dumbledore had meant when he said she was like Fawkes.

Harry and Neville were talking excitedly in the common room when she got back. When they saw she had returned, they asked her how the meeting had gone. She showed them the book, and they both got excited.

The three of them spent the rest of the day reading through it together and practicing non-verbal spellwork, using the fire-making spell to practice. Marigold found it interesting that she was the only one of the three of them who managed to set a piece of paper on fire. Harry was able to get it to smoke, but Neville didn't get any results.

Marigold got it her fifth try, then again later on. When the boys finally went to bed, Marigold went to her dorm as well. She closed her curtain and practiced setting her parchment on fire. She had a cup of water in case things got out of hand.

Marigold noticed that it was easier for her to set the parchment on fire when she didn't have to say the incantation. Maybe it was because she had less to focus on? She had no idea.

Her success rate was surprising; it was significantly higher than usual. With normal spell casting, Marigold could successfully cast a spell maybe once out of fifteen tries. But with nonverbal magic, she could successfully cast a spell at least once out of ten times. Even better, her magic was somehow stronger when she didn't have to say the incantation.

When she finally went to sleep, she was the happiest she had been her entire week of being at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had been right… the book _had_ been a good investment.

(A/N: Just because she can do nonverbal spellwork doesn't make her any better than the other characters. It just takes concentration and a disciplined mind to be able to cast nonverbal spells, which is why it is difficult and is taught only in sixth year. Marigold is not any more advanced than the other students; she just thinks differently, which is why it's hard for her to do verbal magic but not nonverbal magic. As always, thank you duskomybloom for editing, and thank _you_ for reading.)


	11. Up Up and Away

(A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update. As always, everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful and talented J.K)

Charlie usually took two days to respond to Marigold's letters; she had only received a few over the first week of school. However, Sunday morning at breakfast, his owl came screeching in first thing. Marigold jumped, nearly falling off her seat, when the owl landed, exhausted, in her bowl of grits. She quickly picked it up out of the grits and set it on the table.

It shook itself off, getting grits all over Neville, Harry, and herself. Marigold took the letter from the bird and scratched its head. It made an affectionate hoot, and then flew off. Marigold opened up the letter.

 _Marigold,_

 _Where did you hear that word? Was it one of the students? If so then you should tell a teacher… that is not a word one hears in polite society… this is going to be hard to explain…_

 _I don't know if you know this, but there are certain kinds of wizards whose ancestors were all magic users, having virtually no relatives that are Muggle-born. They call themselves pure-bloods. Us Weasleys are technically pure-bloods, though we do not uphold the traditionalist beliefs…_

 _Traditionalist pure-bloods (the Malfoys are a good example, you mentioned Draco was in your year…) hold up the belief in keeping their lines "pure" by having kids only with other pure-bloods._

 _You may be wondering why the backstory. Well… traditionalist pure-bloods believe themselves to be better than those witches and wizards who have Muggles for parents. They consider themselves of "higher breeding" than Muggle-borns._

 _The word you asked me about is an extremely derogatory name for someone who is Muggle-born. It suggests, as the word itself says, that someone has dirty blood… or muddy blood. It has to do with the stigma against Muggles and the Muggle world…_

 _I don't know where you heard the word, of if you heard it being used. I truly hope it wasn't said in direction to you… after all… you can't help how you were born. I don't really have much else to say, if you hear it said again, the best thing to do is tell a teacher or someone of authority…_

 _Though, remembering your story about jinxing Draco Malfoy, I have a feeling that you would probably end up jinxing someone if they said it. Which, as an adult who is worrying about your scholarship, I can't recommend. However, as your older brother and someone who thinks it would be awesome to witness, as well as the fact that I personally detest the word, I very much recommend you jinxing someone who says it._

 _I hope this cleared things up for you. Tell Harry and Neville hi for me, and please write back soon. I enjoy hearing about your adventures at Hogwarts, I miss the school dearly, and you even more._

 _With love,_

 _Charlie_

 _P.S. The dragons are growing so fast, they are nearly five feet already. It turns out they are the Romanian Longhorns, they will be forty feet when they are full grown._

Marigold felt like she was going to be sick. She remembered Neville mentioning there was a stigma against Muggles and Muggle-borns on the Hogwarts Express.

She couldn't possibly have known that the term Malfoy had used would be so bad. She thought it was just a rude insult, something from the Wizarding lexicon or something… she had no idea it was going to be this horrible.

Marigold could feel her face going red; her stomach was doing summersaults and her hands were getting sweaty. This was so much worse than the stupid picture she got Friday; that had been funny. This was an actual term Malfoy had used to maliciously cause her to be upset.

Marigold got up. She tucked the letter in her robes, then turned to leave the Great Hall. Neville had a look of confusion on his face, but she waved him off. She managed to get to her dorm room and close the drapes on her bed before the tears started to fall.

She cried for a long time.

Marigold had escaped from an abusive home environment where she was hated for having magic, only to live in a society where a percentage of the population hated her for being born to people who _didn't_ have it. Either way she looked at it, it wasn't fair.

Marigold sat up, anger filling her. At least now she understood what Professor Dumbledore had meant when he compared her to Fawkes. She was like a phoenix. She kept bursting into flames and being born again. It happened when she left her father to live with the Weasleys. It happened on the train when she jinxed Malfoy, earning her the respect of Harry and Neville.

 _And it's going to happen now_ , she thought to herself. Malfoy called her a Mudblood, and she was going to come forth from those ashes with a new determination and sense of self. She wasn't going to let him get away with his rude comments, mean words, or sarcastic attitude anymore.

Charlie was right; she _was_ going to jinx the next person who used the word.

Marigold got up and out of bed, throwing open the drapes. She grabbed her planner and ripped out the drawing. With a huff, she pinned it to her wall, stood back, and smiled.

"I have put up with the rudeness of others for far to long…" she said, staring at the picture. "No. More."

And with that, she walked down to the common room. On her way down, she passed Oliver Wood, who smiled at her. She smiled back, confidently.

Marigold found Neville and Harry in the common room, talking with Ron. She joined them.

"Hey, Ron, guys. What are you talking about?" she asked, flopping down on the couch next to Neville.

"Classes," Neville shrugged.

"Apparently, Hermione has been talking Ron's ear off during basically every class," Harry grinned.

"Yeah, she does that. She keeps us girls up all the time. She's not so bad though." Marigold smiled.

"She's a bit of a nightmare actually," Ron mumbled. "Did you know that after you guys melted your cauldron, she actually told me that that's what you get for not following the rules?"

"Aw, come on, don't bring that up. I still get itchy thinking about it," Marigold said, scratching at her arm.

"I'm…"

"Don't you dare say you are sorry again, Neville Longbottom. We told you the last time that one hundred times is ninety nine times too many… or do you want to revisit that conversation?"

"No, ma'am," Neville said, blushing.

"Well, Marigold, it seems you found friends after all," Ron said. Marigold raised her eyebrow. "I mean, I heard you talking with Charlie back home about how you were worried about that."

It was Marigold's turn to blush. She _had_ been worried that she wouldn't make any friends.

"By the way, why didn't you tell me you had met Harry?" Ron asked.

"I…uh… you know me, I studied all summer, alone in my room… haha. Anyways… Neville, Harry, have either of you played Wizard's Chess?"

Ron was happy to teach Harry how to play, seeing as he had only ever heard of the game Muggles played. Neville had played before, but he decided to watch, telling them he had never been any good with strategy.

Ron brought down his set, and he played Harry first, annihilating him in ten minutes. After being swept by Ron, Marigold took Harry's place.

Bill had taught Ron how to play, so he was really, really good. Charlie had taught her, but it had been Bill that taught _him_. So up against Ron, Marigold needed Neville and Harry's help. And, though the two of them didn't do so swell on their own, when all three of them worked together they managed to beat Ron on the third game.

They played and talked until dinner, when the four of them went down together. Ron didn't seem to mind Marigold as much as he had over the summer, and the two of them got along really well. After dinner, Marigold got tired, so she told the boys good night and went up to her dorm.

When she walked in the door, Fae glared at her. Marigold smirked and high fived the picture she was now sure had been from Fae. After brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas, Marigold crawled in bed and fell asleep just moments after her head touched the pillow, content in how the day had played out.

The second week proved more difficult than the first. Marigold and the boys had so much homework they couldn't stand it.

On Monday they were assigned a twelve-inch paper on magical properties of Bouncing Bulbs, due first thing in Herbology on Wednesday. In Charms, they were assigned an eleven-inch paper on the incantation pronunciation and why it's important to make sure you say it right, due first thing Thursday morning. In History of Magic, they had to read several chapters and memorize the dates of different parts of the Gargoyle strike of 1911.

Luckily, Marigold and the boys were able to make light of their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, which was the proper way to dispose of a Gnome. Marigold said to flunk it. Neville responded with take away its scholarship. Harry won by saying you can't dispose of one because it doesn't take bullying seriously enough to care.

On Tuesday, they were assigned even more homework. Marigold was starting to seriously worry about the amount of hair Neville was pulling out. Apparently, Professor McGonagall didn't get the memo that they had two other papers to write, because she assigned yet another long paper.

Marigold finished hers off easily, so she wasn't too upset, but she had to explain the content to Neville and Harry. The two of them didn't see the point in explaining the importance of the Transfiguration Formula. After that, Marigold started worrying about her own hair.

At least the Potions homework was simple enough; all they had to do was list and identify the types of cauldrons and at least three ways each type affected a potion. Simple, but tedious.

Marigold was busy doing so much homework that she fell behind on writing to Charlie. She felt bad, but she knew he would understand. She was also falling behind on practicing her nonverbal spellwork, finding herself unable to concentrate late at night and ultimately falling asleep.

Marigold hoped this was just an awkward week. Because if the rest of the year continued on like this, then both Neville and herself would be going home for the summer completely bald.

The only thing that was keeping her going through the first three days was the knowledge that she would be learning to fly on Thursday. Monday morning had started off with all the first years learning that flying lessons would be starting this week.

She wasn't even that bothered that the Gryffindors would be taking the class with the Slytherins, after all she already had Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts with them, what was one more class?

Harry, on the other hand, was peeved. It seemed to Marigold that he truly hated Malfoy. It didn't help matters that Malfoy kept bragging about his flying experiences every second of every day.

He wasn't the only one though. Seamus Finnigan was often bragging about how he spent most of his childhood on a broom. Marigold even had to ask Ron to keep it down when he started an argument with Dean Thomas about football not being as great as Quidditch. It would have been fine, but they were going at it in the middle of the common room, and Marigold was trying to work on her Transfiguration essay.

What letters she did get from Charlie were about Quidditch. After all, he _had_ been the Gryffindor team Seeker when he was at school. He told her not to worry too much; the stories people were telling were most definitely exaggerated, or even fabricated. He reassured her that there were probably a lot of other students who had never been on a broom.

He was right, of course. Neville's grandmother had never let him on a broom. Privately, Marigold agreed that she had good reason; after all, Neville _was_ a bit accident-prone.

Wednesday night, Hermione had stayed up reading _Quidditch Through the Ages_. When Marigold woke up for Astronomy, Hermione was still at it. Thursday morning at breakfast, she still had her nose in that book. She was reading off tips to the whole table; Neville was the only one paying attention. Marigold had the feeling that flying wasn't something you could learn from reading a book. Everyone was relieved when the mail finally came, because it interrupted Hermione's lecture.

Since Marigold hadn't written back to Charlie, she didn't get anything, and neither did Harry. However, all three of them were pleasantly surprised when a barn owl dropped a small package right in front of Neville.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, grabbing the package.

"Well, open it!" Marigold said.

Harry and Marigold watched as Neville excitedly ripped it open. He lifted up a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things… this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red… oh…" his face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "…you've forgotten something…"

"Aw, Neville," Marigold said. She had to desperately try to retain her giggling. "You know, you really need to get a planner or something. This isn't very specific."

"Oh, I don't know," he said, looking up at her. "At least this doesn't flash sarcastic messages at me."

"Fair enough." Marigold laughed.

Marigold looked over at Harry who was also chuckling, then returned to her breakfast. Neville was trying to remember what he had forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who had apparently been passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Marigold was on her feet in an instant, Harry following right behind her. She had been hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy since Saturday, and Harry just genuinely wanted to fight Malfoy. Unfortunately for the both of them (but fortunately for Malfoy), Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any other teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said. He then sauntered away with Crabbe and Goyle following behind him.

Professor McGonagall gave Harry and Marigold a warning look before walking back to the teacher's table. Marigold and Harry exchanged glances as they sat down. They were both disappointed that they didn't get to jinx Malfoy.

"Thanks, guys," Neville said, looking at the two of them with sincere appreciation.

"Don't worry about it, Neville. We got you," Harry said. Marigold nodded in agreement.

Classes for the rest of the day consisted of turning in their ridiculously long homework assignments and receiving more homework as reward. Marigold's planner was developing its own sense of personality so fast that Marigold wondered if it were sentient or just feeding off her emotions.

After a particularly annoying Potions class, Marigold and Harry were glad to finally be going to flying class.

Harry, Neville, and Marigold, accompanied by the other Gryffindors, hurried down the front steps and out to the grassy training grounds next to the Forbidden Forest. It would soon be getting dark, but the class was only thirty minutes long, so Marigold wasn't worried.

The Slytherins were already there, standing in a neat row, a broom separating each of them. The Gryffindors lined up across from the Slytherins, next to their own brooms. Marigold stood in between an excited looking Harry and a rather queasy looking Neville. Hermione was on the other side of Harry, with Ron next to her. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing across from them, sneering at anything that moved.

The teacher, Madam Hooch, was standing at the front of the line. She had short, spiky grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. She quickly took roll, then stuffed the parchment in her robes.

"This is a very practical class, and as such, you will be learning things on the go," Madam Hooch called. "Now, what I want you to do is stick our your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

Marigold, along with all the other students, held her right hand over her broom and shouted "UP!"

Marigold felt her hair whoosh up as Harry's broom jumped into his hand. He looked like he was having a difficult time holding it steady. Marigold chuckled, then turned back to her own broom.

"UP!" she shouted.

The broom shot up and whacked her hand; she winced, but held it steady. She turned to Harry, beaming. He gave her a strained thumbs up with his free hand.

Marigold turned to Neville to see how he was doing; his voice was cracking and his broom wasn't budging. Marigold wondered if it was like a horse and could tell he was scared. Hermione was having a similarly hard time, though her broom was at least rolling over.

"Right then," Madam Hooch said as soon as everyone's brooms were in their hands.

Madam Hooch explained the correct way to mount a broom and went around correcting their grips. Marigold, Harry, and Neville were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. They could literally see his smug grin slide off his face. When Madam Hooch moved on, he gave them an icy stare, making them snicker.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch said when she was confident they would be safe. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle, three…two…"

Neville pushed off hard before Madam Hooch had the time to blow her whistle.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but he was rising straight up, accelerating as he went.

Marigold could see that his face was white; he kept looking down at the ground falling away. Marigold was scared he would fall off. He kept going higher and higher, and she was feeling sick just watching. What if he…

Marigold watched in horror as he slipped sideways off the broom. She watched as he tumbled down to the ground. She let out a scream, one she couldn't hear over the pounding of her own heart, and ran toward him.

"Neville!" she shrieked, bending over him. "Neville, please say something!" she pleaded.

Harry was right next to her, bending over him as well. Madam Hooch appeared out of nowhere; somehow the two had managed to get to Neville before their professor.

"He's not moving!" Marigold cried. She was shaking and unable to breathe. What if he was dead!

"Neville!" Harry yelled, his face as white as Neville's had been.

"I'm 'lright," she heard him murmur.

Marigold let out a sob of relief. Neville tried to move, but winced.

"Ah, ah, ah, hold it," Madam Hooch said, examining Neville. "As I thought, broken wrist. Come on, it's alright, up you get."

Marigold helped her get Neville to his feet.

"Will you help me take him to the hospital wing, dear?" Madam Hooch asked Marigold, who only nodded in response. "Alright," Madam Hooch said, turning to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing. You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Marigold nodded to Harry, then turned her attention back to Neville. He was clutching at his wrist, and his eyes were teary. Marigold put her arm around him, making sure he didn't fall over. The two of them followed Madam Hooch to the hospital wing.

When they got there, Madam Hooch explained what had happened. Madam Pomfrey reassured Neville and Marigold that he would be okay. Madam Pomfrey told Marigold that she could handle it from here. Marigold wished she could stay, but the look on Madam Pomfrey's face told her she should go.

She left the hospital wing with Madam Hooch, waving to Neville before turning the corner. Madam Hooch told her class ended in about five minutes, so she might as well just go on down for dinner. Marigold thanked her, then walked to the Great Hall.

Marigold was so worried about Neville that she didn't notice Harry was late until he plopped down next to her. She looked up from her untouched plate.

"Where have you been?"

"Not important at the moment. How is Neville?"

"Oh, you know me, I bounce," Neville said. Marigold had been so surprised at Harry showing up, she must have missed Neville walking in.

She jumped up, banging her hip on the table. She looked him over, making sure he really was in one piece, and wrapped him in a ginormous hug.

"I was so worried," she said, finally letting him go.

"Me too," Harry agreed.

The three of them sat down, and Marigold started eating the food on her plate. Harry and Neville started heaping food onto their own plates.

"So, you guys are never going to guess what happened after you left," Harry said, finally. He had a mischievous grin on his face.

"What?" Neville asked.

"Well, you dropped your Remembrall when you fell. Here, by the way." Harry handed the glass ball to Neville. "Malfoy picked it up, and, well… long story short, we ended up on our brooms, he threw it, I caught it… Professor McGonagall apparently saw it. I swear, for a bit I thought I was going to be expelled. But she took me into the castle and introduced me to a guy named Oliver Wood… the Quidditch captain for the Gryffindor team. And guess what?"

"What?" Neville and Marigold said in unison.

"I'm the new Gryffindor Seeker!"

"No way!" Neville said.

"How is that possible?" Marigold asked.

"I have no idea, but I'm apparently the youngest House player in about…"

"… a century," someone standing behind Marigold finished.

She turned around to see Oliver Wood beaming down at Harry; Fred and George were standing next to him. Marigold blushed and turned back to her food.

"Well done," George whispered. "Wood told us. We're on the team too… Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," Fred said in a low voice. "You must be good, Harry, Wood here was almost skipping when he told us."

"Alright, alright," Wood interrupted. "Harry, I thought I told you not to tell anyone."

"Sorry, Marigold and Neville won't say anything though, will you guys?" Marigold and Neville shook their heads.

"Fine, just don't go telling anyone else." Wood sighed. He turned around and left. Fred and George followed behind him, waving at Marigold as they passed.

The three of them had hardly left when three less welcome faces walked up. Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, stopped next to Marigold. He didn't look at her. Instead, he glared at Harry.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles?"

"You are a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry said coolly.

Marigold snickered, and Crabbe shot her a dirty look, but Malfoy didn't look away from Harry.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Malfoy said. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only, no contact."

"Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?" Marigold asked, referring to the incident on the train.

"Didn't I teach you your place on Saturday? Or did you forget where you stand in the world," Malfoy hissed, turning to her.

"I think I may need a bit of a reminder," Marigold growled in response.

"Fine. After I've swept the floor with Potter, I'll do the same with you." Malfoy turned to Harry and grinned. "Midnight alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Harry just nodded in response. Malfoy threw an ugly look over to Neville, and then went back to the Slytherin table.

"Marigold, what did Malfoy mean, what happened on Saturday?" Neville asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, turning to her, a confused look on his face.

"Don't you two worry about it," she said with a frown. "We have much bigger things to worry about."

"Like the duel the two of you got yourselves into?" Neville asked.

"No, the obvious trap Malfoy just set."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked nervously.

"You embarrassed him in front of his House, Harry. He's looking for revenge. I mean, I doubt he is going to show up tonight. He's more clever than that. He's not going to take the chance that either of us beat him, see, so he's probably going to do something to tip the odds in his favor.

"The duel itself is after curfew…" Marigold's brain was thinking fast, thoughts spinning around. "You already broke one rule today… if we get caught, the odds of you getting expelled increase. I'm a scholarship student; if we get caught, I could possibly lose my scholarship… Neville wasn't directly invited, but Malfoy probably knows he will come along as well. I don't really know what he could hope to accomplish with Neville, but I'm sure there is something."

"We can't _not_ go though," Harry interrupted. "I mean, if you are wrong, and he really has challenged us to a duel, and we don't show up…"

"I didn't say we weren't going to show up. I just said that it's most likely a trap. Either that, or I am giving him way too much credit."

"Not to be rude, Marigold…" Neville said, "But Malfoy is kind of a git. I doubt he put so much planning into it. After all, he seemed to have come up with the idea just after Harry taunted him."

"Fair enough," she sighed. "Well, in that case, we have until midnight to come up with a decent plan on defeating Malfoy in a duel. That gives us a little less than five hours."

"That's not very much time, Marigold," Harry said, suddenly looking a little pale.

"Don't worry, Harry." Marigold grinned. "I have a plan."

And she did. She had already composited a list of jinxes to use on Malfoy if the time ever came. All she had to do was go over them with Harry and hope he won the duel. After all, she was still having a little bit of trouble casting regular magic. And no matter how upset she was with Malfoy, she didn't know if she was ready with nonverbal magic yet, either.

Though, when the time came and she was right about it being a trap, she guessed she would have other things to worry about. Either way, tonight at midnight would probably change the rest of her school year. Or, maybe, her entire Hogwarts experience.

Only time would tell…

(A/N: Not all that much happened this chapter, but more will happen in the next. Thank you duskomybloom for editing. And lastly, thank _you_ for reading. Please leave reviews telling me what you think.)


	12. Nightmare Material

_The Duelists Guide to Nonverbal Spellwork_ had five chapters. The first chapter was dedicated to explaining what nonverbal spellwork was, how it differed from normal casting. The chapter explained how some were more adept than others, it even included that some wands were more skilled at casting nonverbal spells.

The second chapter was dedicated to explaining how to cast nonverbal spells. It clarified that concentration and a focused mind were the two things that replace the incantation.

Chapter three went on to explain the pros and cons of using nonverbal spellwork in duels. However, if you were the caster than the odds were in your favor because your opponent had no idea what spell you were casting, so they couldn't properly defend it. But that worked both ways.

Chapters four and five had lists of offensive and defensive spells that worked well nonverbally. The chapters explained how the spells worked, glossing over the incantations, but still including them.

Marigold put down the book and looked at Harry and Neville. The three of them had spent the first of their five hours reviewing the book.

"I'm just no good when it comes to nonverbal spellwork," Harry said with a frown.

"I know. But the book has good spells, and it includes the incantations, so just use those. I'm quite rubbish with regular magic, so I'll focus on the nonverbal part."

"Come on, Marigold, you are getting better," Neville sighed, stretching.

"Yeah, I am, but I'm not good enough for a duel yet, especially against Malfoy."

None of them said anything for a few minutes.

"Do you think we will get caught?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered. He looked to Marigold, who just shrugged.

"I don't know why Dumbledore gave you that book," Neville said, eyeing the closed book on Marigold's lap. "Wizard duels are really dangerous. I mean, look at these spells and jinxes. Their sole purpose is to harm… or… or…"

"Kill?" Harry asked.

"Yeah… why would Professor Dumbledore give you a book on dueling, Marigold?"

"I don't think he meant for me to use the spells. When we were talking, it was about my lack of skill with casting spells. He probably gave it to me just so I could learn about nonverbal magic… he said he had a hunch."

"A hunch?" Neville asked skeptically.

Marigold nodded. The three of them looked down at the book. Marigold had thought that Dumbledore gave the book to her just for the practicality of learning about nonverbal spellwork. But now she had doubts. She shook them away; Dumbledore couldn't possibly want her to go around dueling students.

"Alright, I suggest we learn some of the not so harmful spells. After all, we don't want to kill Malfoy."

The boys agreed.

Most of the spells in the book were quite advanced, so Harry and Neville spent their time looking through their schoolbooks for different spells. Marigold delved into the book, reading about the confundus charm, the impediment jinx, as well as several other spells, jinxes, and charms that caused all sorts of damage.

The knockback jinx, and the two spells that followed after it, were in the book. Marigold had already successfully cast the first one, so she decided she would use that one when it came to be her turn. The baubillious charm looked fun, but shooting a bolt of lightning at Malfoy seemed like overkill, especially since Harry was going first.

The book had an interesting looking disarming charm, but Marigold found a spell that looked even more fascenating. It was written on the inside cover of the book in loopy, faded handwriting.

 _Wrist-breaking Hex_

 _Causes your opponent's wand casting wrist to break, making them unable to use their wand._

 _Wave your wand, making an upside down V. a motion similar to breaking someone's wrist. If properly cast, a brown-yellow light will burst from your wand and your opponent will clutch at their wrist. A bonus if they drop their wand._

 _For normal spell casting, the incantation is_ Occillo Chiro _. Though this spell works most effectively when nonverbal, as it was intended to be used._

 _Unlike with the disarming charm, if your opponent drops their wand, its allegiance will still be to them._

Marigold wondered if Dumbledore had written this in himself or if the book had been like that when Dumbledore acquired it. It seemed like a very useful spell, even if it was a little dirty.

Marigold didn't think she would use that spell tonight; but someday, she might. She didn't realize that wands could change their allegiance, but then again, the wand maker Ollivander had told her that her wand was loyal. That comment made more sense now.

The three of them 'went to bed' at around ten, so that nobody would get suspicious. They promised they would meet up at fifteen till, and all go together. Marigold sat down in bed, in her pajamas, with her curtains closed tight.

She kept wondering what was going to happen tonight. She wondered if Malfoy had bitten off more than he could chew when he challenged the two of them. Or maybe he had a few spells that gave him a vote of confidence. Marigold hoped he didn't duel like he acted: foul.

She waited, and waited, and finally the last of her roommate's lights went out. Marigold breathed a sigh of relief. She waited for ten more minutes, then grabbed her wand out from under her pillow. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe, stuffing the wand in a pocket Mrs. Weasley had sewn in for her.

She crept out of the dorm room and down the spiral staircase. When she got to the common room, nobody was there. Had the boys fallen asleep while they waited? Suddenly, a movement out of the corner of her eye caused her to whirl around.

She moved for her wand, but when she saw Neville and Harry peeking over the top of the couch, she relaxed. They grinned up at her and jumped up.

Harry looked nervous, but Neville looked oddly calm about the situation.

"You ready for this?" Harry whispered to Marigold.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's get going. We don't want to be late."

They ducked out of the portrait hole and out into the dark corridor. Not wanting to risk being found by Filch or Mrs. Norris, none of them tried to light their wands. They shuffled down the corridor and turned into a brighter lit one.

They flitted along guided by bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Marigold expected to run into something or someone who would give away their position. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and his lackeys weren't there yet.

The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. If it sparkled this much in the gleam of night, Marigold wondered what the room looked like in the daytime. She wondered how many names were in here, how many students once proudly held trophies or cups or the like, only for them to be set in glass cases.

The three edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. Marigold did as well; Neville eyed the two of them warily. The minutes crept by.

"He's late," Marigold whispered.

Harry nodded, but a noise in the next room made him jump. Harry and Marigold had only just raised their wands when they heard someone speak. It wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Marigold looked at the boys, horror-struck. The three of them frantically looked around; Harry got their attention and motioned for them to follow him. The three of them scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

The three of them braced themselves against the wall, wands drawn and guts tucked in.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed, and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor.

Marigold's heart was racing and a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. The only footsteps that she could hear were Neville's. Had he never had to sneak around the house? She and Harry were silent as a ghost.

They could hear Filch getting closer. Suddenly, Neville let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. He had almost passed Marigold when he tripped. He grabbed onto her around the waist, and the pair toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake up the whole castle. Marigold felt her ears ringing. She didn't have time to register that Neville was on top of her until Harry yanked him off her.

"RUN!" Harry hissed at the two of them.

Marigold got up and the three of them sprinted down the gallery, not bothering to look back and see if Filch was following or not. They swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor, then another. Harry was in the lead; Marigold was sure he had no idea where he was leading them.

They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway. They hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which Marigold knew was miles from the trophy room

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the wall.

Neville bent over, wheezing and sputtering.

Marigold coughed, her chest aching. She wasn't sure if it was from the running or from Neville crashing into her and falling hard. Her ears were still ringing a bit, though they were doing better.

"We have to get back, as soon as possible," Neville huffed.

Marigold only nodded.

Unfortunately it wasn't going to be that simple. They had gone maybe a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. Marigold gripped her wand tight, but lowered it when she saw it was only Peeves. He caught sight of them and cackled with delight.

"Peeves, please keep it down! You'll get us kicked out!" Marigold loudly whispered.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty. Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves said in a saintly voice. His eyes glittered wickedly, making an eerie contrast. "It's for your own good, you know."

"We got to go," Marigold said. She beckoned for the others, then ran. Maybe Peeves just wanted to talk to them or maybe prank them, but apparently running away from him had been a bad idea.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves shrieked, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

They reached the end of the corridor and slammed into a door. It was locked. She watched as Harry started to panic. Neville was whining about this being it. Marigold looked back at Peeves, who was still screaming his head off. She could hear footsteps; they didn't have much time.

She looked at her best friends. This wasn't over yet.

"Move!" she demanded.

They moved. Marigold faced the door. She concentrated hard, and thought _Alohomora_ , and tapped the lock. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. They piled through it and shut it quickly.

Marigold saw that the boys had slammed their ears against the door so they could hear what was going on. She saw it, but it didn't register, because as she was about to do the same, she caught something out of the corner of her eye.

She slowly turned around. After all that had happened tonight, this was too much.

She had thought this was a room, but it wasn't. It was a corridor. The third floor corridor. The _forbidden_ third floor corridor.

She gently raised her wand, not daring to move too fast. She followed the tip of her wand with her eyes, staring at the paws atop a trapdoor. The tree trunk sized black legs. The ebony body, larger than it should be.

And lastly, she pointed her wand to the three large heads. The three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering at her; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing stock still, all six eyes boring into her. She knew the only reason they were still alive was because the beast was surprised and curious. But she was sure that wouldn't last long.

Marigold held her wand hand steady, but the rest of her was shaking. She was the only one who knew the dog was there, and that needed to change.

"Guys," she whispered, not daring turn her head from the creature.

"What?" Harry asked, too loud.

Marigold could sense the two of them turning around. She could feel the atmosphere change as the two of them sucked up the air in the room. She heard one of them fumbling for the door, but the growls of the dog soon overpowered all other sound.

She didn't know the door was open until the stale air was replaced with the safe scent of the castle. She didn't turn from the dog; she stood guard waiting for the others to get out, that's what was important. She didn't turn to run until their hands reached out to grab her. She whipped around and fled the room; she heard the door slam behind her.

"GO!" she ordered; the boys nodded and took off.

They didn't see Filch anywhere. Peeves was gone too. Marigold ran behind the two boys, constantly looking over her shoulder, making sure the monster wasn't following them. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

Marigold whirled around and stared down the corridor they had just ran down.

"Where on earth have you all been?" Marigold heard her ask.

"Never mind that," Harry panted. "Pig snout, pig snout."

Marigold heard the portrait swing forward. She turned around and followed the boys as they scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into the armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville looked as if he'd never speak again. Marigold had to pry her wand out of her hand; her knuckles were white and sore.

"What is that thing doing in a school?" Harry asked. Marigold looked up, he looked confused.

"It was standing on a trapdoor," Marigold whispered, rubbing her knuckles.

"Wh-what?" Neville stuttered.

"It's… it's…" Marigold could hear her voice cracking. "I think…" she could feel tears slipping. She could tell that Neville and Harry didn't know what to do with her crying, so she took a deep breath. "I think it's gu-guarding something."

Marigold looked down at her hands. Tears fell, and she hastily wiped them off her hand. She looked up at the boys; Harry looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words.

"I think… I think I'm going to go to bed. It's late, and we have classes tomorrow," she whispered, standing up.

Neither of the boys said anything, or moved. Marigold quietly made her way upstairs and into her bed. She closed the curtains and stared up into the darkness. She could just make out her hand if she reached it out in front of her. She knew she was crying, but it was the kind that didn't make any sound, the kind that just hurt.

What could possibly be so important that it would need a nightmarish dog to guard it? And why on earth would it be put in Hogwarts? This was a school! Surely it was Dumbledore that put whatever it was there. Why on earth would the headmaster keep something like that in a school with children?

The luckiest part of her day was when she went to sleep, because she didn't dream. The vacancy of closing her eyes and waking up the next minute feeling slightly rested, but having no indication that any time had gone by, was nice.

It was such a welcome relief that the next morning, Marigold was able to let herself believe, if only for a minute, that the dog had simply been a nightmare. But when she went down to wait for the boys for breakfast, she knew it had been real. Her knuckles still hurt from clutching at her wand, and her eyes were red and puffy.

When the boys came down, she could tell that neither of them had slept as well as she had; frankly, Neville looked like he had cried all night. Harry looked relatively fine, just tired. They all mumbled their good mornings, then headed down to the Great Hall silently.

When they entered the Hall, they caught sight of Malfoy. He was talking with a few of his fellow Slytherins with a very smug look on his face. He turned to look at one of his friends, and apparently caught sight of Marigold and the boys, because his smug grin slipped off his face.

Marigold felt rather smug; she had been right about it being a trap, but with the way last night went, she wasn't going to bring that up with the boys. Though, she was very glad Malfoy looked quite upset.

"So I think I might know what the dog is guarding," Harry whispered to them, as he piled his plate with food.

"Yeah?" Marigold asked, halfheartedly.

Harry told the two of them about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts. Marigold remembered Harry mentioning it in Hagrid's hut. The three of them spent breakfast wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Marigold said.

"Or both," Neville sighed. He looked like he didn't want to discus it.

All they really knew for sure was that the object was about two inches long; they agreed that it wasn't a lot to go on.

"We need to know more than its size and the fact that it may be dangerous or expensive. If we are gong to figure out what it is, we will have to learn a lot more."

"You want to learn more?" Neville asked, wide eyed.

"Well, yeah…"

"We almost died last night, Harry." Neville frowned.

"Exactly," Marigold interrupted. "I mean, we should figure it out, because something like that… dog, doesn't belong in a castle full of children. But now that we know about it, I'm not going to be able to forget about it."

"You have a point, but I don't want to go near that dog again. You may be handy in a synch when it comes to opening doors, but against that thing, we don't stand a chance."

Marigold heard the familiar sound of flapping wings, and their conversation came to a halt. Marigold looked up for the owl Charlie used, but it wasn't there. Her attention was drawn to six large screech owls carrying a long thin package. Marigold wondered who that was going to. Her eyes went wide as they soared down and dropped the parcel right in front of Harry, Neville, and herself.

Moments after the birds had flown away, another dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Harry looked at the two of them, then ripped open the letter. The three of them crowded around and read the note.

 _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

 _Professor M. McGonagall_

"Merlin's pants, Harry," Neville breathed. His eyes were glinting with excitement.

The three of them left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private. Halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs blocked by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

"It's not any old broomstick," Neville said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. I heard you only have a Comet Two Sixty?"

"Oh, really?" Marigold asked. Though, because Malfoy bragged a lot, she knew full well what broom he had. "According to my brother Charlie, Comets look flashy, but aren't even in the same league as a Nimbus."

"You aren't a…"

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" Professor Flitwick squeaked, appearing out of nowhere.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir." Marigold could see he was fighting the need to laugh. Marigold was too; the look of horror on Malfoys face was gold. "It's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," Harry added.

Professor Flitwick nodded, then shuffled away, apparently not noticing the obvious snickering coming from Marigold and Neville. When he disappeared, the three of them burst into laughter. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused, and Malfoy looked downright enraged.

The three of them raced off, Marigold shooting a rude look over her shoulder; Malfoy just frowned. Marigold waited in the common room as Harry and Neville dropped the broom off in their dorm.

The look of indignation on Malfoy's face had almost made up for him setting the trap last night.

They had double Potions today, and Marigold was not looking forward to dealing with Snape. It was another practical day, so she and Dean Thomas would be brewing some potion together.

Over these first few weeks, she had become good friends with Dean. The two of them were partners whenever partners were needed, so they got to talk a lot. They mostly talked about their friends or about school. Dean often told stories of Seamus Finnigan and Ron, since the three of them hung out all the time. Marigold often talked about Charlie, or, of course, Neville and Harry.

When Marigold got down to the Potions room, she took her seat next to Dean.

"Hey, Dean," Marigold said with a smile.

"Marigold." He grinned back at her, then his expression changed into worry. "Hey, are Harry and Neville okay? They snuck into the dorm early in the morning, I heard Neville crying all night," he whispered.

Marigold's heart sank. She knew it. Neville had been crying all night. She had at least got some sleep; she made a mental note to talk to him when Harry was doing his Quidditch thing.

"Yeah, they are alright… they were probably just talking about class," she lied, "I mean, Neville did fall nearly twenty feet…"

"Oh, right, of course… I'm glad he's better."

"Quiet down!" Snape said, entering the room with gusto. "Turn to page ninety two."

The class quieted down immediately. Marigold could hear them all rustling through their books. She opened the book and found the right page. _The Forgetfulness Potion_ was written on the top of the page. A list of instructions followed. Marigold could tell that this was going to be a tricky potion. For one, there was a fifteen-minute gap where they had to leave the cauldron simmering. A lot could go wrong in fifteen minutes.

The class was told to start immediately, and there was a scurrying to grab materials. Marigold read over the instructions, listing off things for Dean to grab. The two of them had nearly perfected their partnership. For the past few potions they brewed, they had received top marks, along with Hermione and Ron.

Snape always walked around during class, making sure everyone was staying on track. He often praised Malfoy and criticized Harry and Neville more than necessary. He didn't say or do anything when it came to Marigold and Dean, though he stuck around their cauldron longer, and paid more visits.

Marigold and Dean nearly had a slip-up during the second half of class. They had left it to simmer for the first recommendation of forty-five minutes, but it wasn't ready, so they decided to wait for a little while longer. The two of them got to talking with Harry and Neville; Marigold thought Dean checked it first, and he thought she had.

In the end, their potion was fine, but there were thirty seconds where the two of them were panicking.

When class ended, Harry raced out of the room with Neville behind. Marigold told Dean she would talk to him later, then ran after the boys.

It felt weird running through the castle toward something amazing after their romp through the corridors last night, a monster at their heels. Marigold felt the stich in her side, and a slight panic creeping through her. She gave in to the urge and looked behind her. There wasn't a three-headed beast, but she could no longer honestly attribute her pounding heart to the running.

They didn't stop running until they were through the Fat Lady's portrait and up in the boy's dorm. Marigold doubled over, desperately trying to control the shaking in her hands, hoping the boys hadn't noticed. They hadn't, of course; they themselves were breathing heavily.

By the time the boys had managed to catch their breath, Marigold had regained her own composure.

Harry grabbed the Nimbus Two Thousand out from under his bed. The three of them sat down on his bed, and Marigold watched as Harry tore into the wrapping, throwing the paper behind him.

"Wow," Neville breathed, as the broomstick rolled from Harry's lap to his bedspread.

Marigold had only seen the Cleansweeps that the Weasley boys used, but this looked nothing like those. This was sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle. It had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and _Nimbus Two Thousand_ written in gold near the top.

Marigold could tell Harry was thrilled. All through lunch Harry was giddy and excited. While the three worked on the homework for the weekend, Harry was very distracted. While they practiced casting spells, in the boy's dorm since they were practicing both verbal and nonverbal and didn't want anyone to interrupt, Harry kept trying to peek at the Nimbus Two Thousand under the bed.

When they went down to dinner, Harry just scarfed down his food, not saying a word. It was kind of gross, but Marigold couldn't blame him. All day he had kept telling them he was going to go down to the pitch early and fly before Oliver Wood was supposed to meet him.

After stuffing himself, and telling them he would meet up after, Harry ran off. Marigold watched him go, chuckling. Marigold and Neville finished up pretty quickly after that, and made their way to the Gryffindor common room.

The chairs by the fireplace had been unofficially clamed by the trio. Marigold and Neville plopped down, the only two first years back in the room. Marigold knew she should say something, ask if he's okay, but she couldn't make herself talk. Somehow sitting in the chair again, staring at her hands, reminded her of last night. She felt stuck.

After a while, Marigold could hear students passing by her chair. She knew time was passing as she sat there with Neville, neither of them saying a word. Hermione and Ron passed by, bickering about something or other. Marigold could hear Fred and George as they walked past her, talking and joking. Fred must have forgotten something in his dorm because when he walked past her again, it was just his voice.

"Don't worry about it, stay with Angelina …"

She could hear everything, and register what was going on around her. She could hear Dean and Seamus laughing about something. The world kept revolving, but her and Neville stayed still. Not saying a word. Stagnant.

"Marigold?" Neville whispered, shattering their mutual silence.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking up to see him looking her.

"You were pretty amazing."

"What? When?" she asked, confused. She hadn't done anything amazing recently.

"Last night, against the… dog…"

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

"Are you okay? Dean was worried… I was too…"

"I'm alright," he sighed. "I've got you and Harry for friends. As scary as that was, I had the two of you."

"Truly." She grinned. She realized that he had a point; as long as they had each other, they would be fine.

The two of them started moving in sync with the rest of the common room. When Harry got back from Quidditch training, things were normal again. Well, almost normal. Marigold realized Fred wasn't back from his room yet.

(A/N: Sorry it took so long to post, I spent most of my time with family and it took a long time to edit. Thank you duskomybloom for editing, and thank _you_ for reading.)


	13. Why Girls Go to the Bathroom Together

(A/N: Sorry about the last update having everything look wrong. As always, everything you recognize belongs to the amazingly talented J.K.)

Marigold had her hands full.

Between Harry playing Quidditch and needing homework help late at night, and Neville needing her help during the day, Marigold barely had enough time to practice her nonverbal magic. With her own homework to do, and theirs to help with, things were going slow. Though, she _was_ practicing with the two of them on their verbal casting, working outside of class without being told to. The only other student working extra like them was Hermione, and her grades and casting showed it.

After the incident with the dog, Marigold threw herself into her homework, using it as a distraction. She spent every moment of her spare time in the library, so that was part of the reason her nonverbal practice wasn't doing so well. She still hadn't written to Dumbledore, and she knew she should; after all, he wanted to know her progress…

The only time she practiced nonverbal magic was when she was supposed to be asleep. She would practice and practice until she passed out with exhaustion, only to wake up a few hours later, panting and sweating. The only time she slept well was Thursdays after flying lessons, when she was so exhausted she didn't even dream, let alone have nightmares.

The worst of her nightmares happened the night before Halloween, weeks after the three of them had met the monster. She was practicing making a piece of paper float, knowing she would be working on it in Charms tomorrow, when she fell asleep.

Her dream had been fine at first. Harry, Neville, and she had been walking through the castle. The only reason she knew it was a dream was because the sunlight was too bright, the shadows were too dark, and her friend's faces had a shimmery glow that slightly obscured them.

They were laughing and talking about something; they turned a corner and found themselves face to face with the three-headed dog. Marigold immediately took out her wand. She yelled at the three of them to run, but instead they walked toward the beast. She screamed and screamed, but they kept walking.

She started throwing spells and charms, jinxes and hexes at the dog. But nothing worked. Harry and Neville just walked toward it, almost entranced. She watched in horror as the three-headed monster ducked two of its heads and swallowed her friends whole.

When the dog was done, it turned to her, slobbering. She shot another spell, one she didn't recognize, and suddenly the dog wasn't a dog anymore.

It was Professor Snape. With her wand still drawn, she watched as he walked toward her. She tried to back up, but found herself against a wall. She didn't lower her wand as he drew closer; she shot him a warning look, and he paused. His expression was sad.

 _"What do you want?"_ dream-Marigold asked.

 _"You look just like her,"_ she heard dream-Snape say, his eyes watery.

 _"What are you talking about?"_

 _"Like a filthy Mudblood,"_ he answered, but it wasn't Professor Snape's voice, it was Draco Malfoy's.

Snape then transformed back into the dog. She tried to jinx it, but it just growled. She watched, knowing she couldn't do anything, as its jaws came down around her and her vision went dark.

Marigold woke up with a start. She was covered in sweat and unable to breathe. She threw the covers off of her, in attempt to give her chest some breathing room. It helped a little bit.

She knew it was early in the morning, too early for her to get up. She spent a long time trying to calm herself down; it took a while, but she finally managed. She wondered if she could go back to sleep… she decided to get out of bed.

She walked into the bathroom and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, the wavy strands stuck to her neck with sweat. Her usually bright green eyes that looked so much like Harry's seemed dull now, lifeless. She had bags under her eyes, similar to the ones her mother had before she had left. Marigold looked exhausted, and she felt even worse.

She took a shower, then got dressed. Her wand had gotten lost in the covers, since she had gone to sleep using it. She finally found it tucked between the sheet and the comforter. She looked down at the swirly handle, the flowers and buds etched into the wood. She sat down on the bed and just held it in her hands. She had been unable to determine what kind of flowers they were.

With a heavy sigh she got up and made her way out of the dorm. Just as she was reaching the door, passing Hermione's bed, the curtains ripped open. The sudden movement nearly gave her a heart attack.

"What are you doing up?" Hermione whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing," Marigold whispered back.

"Fair enough… are you alright? You look awful."

"I… I'm alright, just tired," Marigold sighed.

"Okay, well… if you ever need anything, we can always talk."

"Well, thank you, Hermione, I appreciate it," Marigold whispered back, smiling.

Hermione grinned, then closed her curtains, and Marigold went on down to the common room. When she got to her usual chair she found a piece of parchment sitting on it. She picked it up and read it.

 _What do Marigold and a Banshee have in common? They are both hideous and scream a lot._

Drawn next to the writing was a picture of what Marigold assumed was her bed, with screaming sounds coming out of it.

She sighed and sat down, holding the piece of parchment in her hands. She thought Fae had given up her low key bullying. After all, Fae had stopped talking to her since the last insulting page. Maybe Marigold's nightmares were getting on Fae's nerves. If she did scream at night, she could understand Fae getting upset, and Hermione worrying, for that matter.

This bit of bullying was still weak, though it hit harder than the last one.

Harry and Neville came down after an hour; Marigold had spent that time making the piece of paper float lazily around the room. When they got down to the common room, they stopped when they saw the page floating around.

"Way to go, Marigold," Harry said, with a smile on his face.

"Thanks, Harry," Marigold said, and she zoomed the piece of paper by their faces.

Marigold flew it around, using her wand as a guide. The three of them were laughing until Neville jumped up and grabbed it out of the air. He looked at the piece of paper and his smile fell. Harry looked over his shoulder and read the page, his grin slipping off his face as well.

"Don't worry about it," Marigold said.

"But, Marigold…"

"I said don't worry about it, Neville," Marigold interrupted, walking over and snatching the page from him. "Let's go to breakfast."

As Marigold walked out of the room, she heard Harry and Neville following after. The smell of baking pumpkin and other nice treats wafted through the corridors, leading them down to the Great Hall. The three of them made it down to breakfast and sat down.

"You guys excited for the feast tonight?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, I'm hoping they won't assign any homework tonight because I'm going to eat so much!" Harry agreed.

"I agree, I am going to be so tired after all the food I plan on eating. Though, you have to admit, classes and homework have gotten more interesting since we covered the basics," Marigold said.

"Well, if by interesting you mean more difficult, then yeah. If it weren't for you, I probably would be so far behind on homework, with Quidditch practice and all."

"You make even Defense Against the Dark Arts make sense. Your insistence on practicing will probably put us in front of a lot of the other students," Neville agreed.

"I have to admit, even I'm getting better. I managed to get that paper to float this morning on my fourth try. I'm hoping we start practicing magic in Charms soon, theory is great and all, but practical application is better."

Harry and Neville just nodded in agreement. In truth, the three of them had been having fun with magical theory, because the homework was easy; they all knew that once they started practical magic, the homework would get more complicated.

Marigold got a letter from Charlie in the mail. She stuffed it in her planner, and the three of them raced off to Charms.

After Professor Flitwick took role, he announced that they were ready to start making objects fly. Marigold was super excited; her and the boys exchanged looks, then turned back to the professor. Marigold caught Hermione's eye, the two girls grinned at each other. Marigold had caught Hermione practicing the day before, in their dorm.

The professor put the class into pairs to practice, giving each team a feather to work with. Harry and Seamus Finnigan were partnered up. Marigold caught Hermione's eye, but the professor put Hermione with Ron, and Marigold with Neville. Hermione looked upset, and Ron didn't look any better.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, perched atop his pile of books, as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important too… never forget the Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo in his chest."

Marigold turned to Neville, who looked nervous to be doing this in a classroom setting.

"Come on, Neville, you got this!" she encouraged.

Neville nodded, and the two of them took turns trying to make the feather float. Nearly five minutes in, Seamus set his feather on fire; Marigold giggled as Harry franticly tried to put it out with his hat.

Marigold was having a tough time of it. She was used to practicing in quiet, and with Ron and Hermione arguing, loudly, next to her, it was proving very difficult.

"You're saying it wrong. It's Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, make the 'gar' nice and long," Hermione snapped at him.

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled back.

At this point, both Marigold and Neville had stopped practicing and were watching the two of them. Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand, and said the incantation.

Marigold watched as the feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. She gave Ron a smug grin, and Marigold snickered.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Hermione gained Gryffindor House five points since she was the first in the class to get the feather to float. After Hermione, a Ravenclaw boy Marigold didn't know got his feather to float. After him, it was Harry.

Marigold managed to get her feather to float, just before it was time for them to go to their next class.

Harry, Neville and Marigold walked to Transfiguration with Ron, Dean, and Seamus right behind them. Ron complained loudly to Seamus about Hermione.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron complained, making Marigold frown. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

A few seconds later, someone bumped into Harry. Marigold recognized Hermione's bushy hair.

"I think she heard you…" Marigold heard Dean tell Ron.

"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Marigold whirled around, glaring at Ron. "She has friends, Ronald. I'm one of them, and you are more of a nightmare than her, you judgmental oaf. You two are always arguing!"

"Hey, don't talk to me like that, you have no right," Ron snapped back, his face as red as his hair.

"I have every right!" she snapped back.

Without letting Ron say anything else, Marigold huffed off to Transfiguration, Harry and Neville having to hurry to keep up with her.

Hermione didn't turn up for Transfiguration. During lunch, Marigold went to look for her in the dorm, but she wasn't there, either. Hermione didn't turn up for any of the other classes, and when she missed flying, the last class of the day, Marigold was over being worried; she was scared. Hermione never missed class.

On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Marigold and the boys overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender and Fae that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone.

"You guys go on ahead," Marigold said, turning to Neville and Harry, "I'm going to go see Hermione."

"Alright, try and make it back to the feast, though," Neville said.

Marigold nodded, then raced to the first floor girls' bathroom. She got to the door and stopped to catch her breath. When she was able to breathe again, she opened the door. She could hear sniffling coming from one of the stalls.

"Hermione?" she asked, knocking on the stall door.

"Go away!" Hermione answered.

"Hey, come on now, wasn't it you who told me just this morning that if I ever needed anything, you were there? That goes both ways, you know," Marigold said.

Hermione didn't answer. Marigold sighed and leaned against the divider next to the door. Neither of them said anything for a while; Marigold just listened to Hermione cry.

"I didn't have any friends growing up," Marigold whispered. "I wasn't allowed out of my house because my parents worried I would use magic. They were worried people from church would see."

Hermione didn't say anything for a few minutes. "…You weren't allowed outside?"

"Nope," Marigold sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Just because you used magic accidently? But all children with magic do…" Hermione sniffed. "The kids at my school… I didn't have any friends either. My parents were always confused, they figured it out along the way…"

"Yeah?" Marigold sighed.

"What did your parents do? When they figured it, out I mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, they figured it out when I was a baby… one time, I used it accidently around my mom and she jabbed me with her curling iron."

"I'm sorry…"

"It was a long time ago." Marigold closed her eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't really know what I'm doing, especially when it comes to friends. But, I consider you one of mine… so don't worry about Ron…"

Marigold trailed off. An awful smell had burst into the room; her nose wrinkled in response. Marigold's eyes snapped open, and her jaw dropped. It was a horrific sight; she had thought the dog had been bad…

Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder, with its small, bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short, stumpy legs with flat, horny feet. Whatever it was, it was holding a huge wooden club, which was touching the floor. Marigold heard the bathroom door slam shut, and a lock bolting.

"What is that smell?" Hermione asked, her voice too loud. The creature looked right at Marigold.

"Hermione," Marigold hissed, slowly pulling her wand out, her thoughts returning to the night with the dog. "Hermione, lay down on the ground and cover your head."

"What on earth…" Hermione opened the door. The end of her sentence ended in a high-pitched scream, which echoed around the bathroom.

Everything started happening very fast. One minute Hermione was standing next to Marigold, and the next, she was against the wall, the troll advancing on her. Before Marigold had time to cast a single spell, the door was thrown open, and Neville, Harry, and Ron were standing in the doorway.

A loud crash sent Marigold's attention back to the beast; it was still advancing on Hermione, smashing sinks as it went.

"Hermione!" Marigold screamed.

Hearing her name, Hermione shook her head and turned to Marigold. "HELP!" she screamed.

Marigold pointed her wand at the monster. She screamed _Confundo!_ in her head. No light erupted from her wand, but the beast halted, scratching its head in the confusion Marigold had induced.

"Hermione _run_!"

Hermione darted around the beast, the sudden movement startling it. It swung its club, nearly hitting Hermione. It swung again, hitting the top of the stalls, sending wood flying. A large beam came hurdling straight for Marigold; she didn't have time to react before it hit her in the chest, sending her crashing to the ground.

"Marigold!" she heard someone scream. She felt dizzy. She got up, the movement making her vision sway and searing pain flow through her.

"Ron, get her out of here, get a teacher!" Marigold yelled. Marigold couldn't tell if he nodded, but he grabbed Hermione's hand, and the two of them ran out. "Harry, Neville, help me out here!" Marigold ducked as the creature swung again.

She waved her wand, concentrated hard on _Stupefy_ , and a blue blast erupted from her wand. The spell was meant to knock the monster out, but it just shook its head. Maybe the spell wasn't strong enough to take on a monster? Or maybe, being cast by a first year, the spell just wasn't powerful enough?

It raised its club again but, to Marigold's astonishment, Harry ran and jumped on it. Marigold was feeling woozy; moving hurt, and it was hard to breathe, but she watched as Harry stuck his wand up the creature's nose. She fought the urge to laugh. Leave it to Harry to use his wand for that and not magic.

The monster howled with pain; Marigold and Neville covered their ears. It flung its club around, nearly hitting Neville this time.

"Do something!" Harry yelled.

Neville and Marigold held up their wands; the creature lifted its club up over its head.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " Neville cried.

Marigold had cast the same spell, but she wasn't sure whose had worked; maybe both. But the club flew suddenly out of the creature's hand; it rose high, high up into the air, then fell with a sickening crack onto its owner's head. The beast swayed on the spot, then fell flat on its face with a thud that made Marigold's teeth chatter.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaky and out of breath, and Neville looked pale. The three of them looked at the unconscious beast.

"What is it?" Marigold asked.

"Troll…" Neville mumbled.

"Got it."

Marigold watched as Harry removed his wand from the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. He wiped it on the troll's trousers while Marigold fought to stay on her feet. Her chest hurt and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. But, in retrospect, things could have been worse. It was amazing none of them died.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. Professor McGonagall burst through the door, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrel taking the rear.

Quirrel took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and quickly sat down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Marigold rolled her eyes; he was the Defense teacher, for goodness' sake.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at the three of them, an expression on her face Marigold couldn't identify.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Hermione and I were in here." Marigold coughed into her hand; a spray of blood covered it. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

"We knew they were in here, so we came to tell them about the troll, since they didn't know. But the troll had already left the dungeon. Ron got Hermione out, but…" Harry trailed off.

"We stayed, trying to get her out," Neville piped up.

"Very well then…"

Marigold could see that Professor McGonagall was still talking, but her vision was getting blurry. The room started to sway; she caught sight of Professor Snape, a look of concern on his face. Her ribs hurt; of course she would be the one to get hurt. Professor McGonagall was looking at her, but spots were covering her face.

Marigold swayed a little bit; then everything went dark.

(A/N: Ohhh! Cliffhanger! Marigold sure is built for being in stressful situations. I found it hard to believe first years could take on a troll with none of them getting hurt, so, I changed things of course. Thank you duskomybloom for editing, and thank _you_ for reading. Please leave reviews!)


	14. Quidditch and Conversations

(A/N: Sorry that this took so long to post. As always everything you recognize belongs to the talented J.K.)

 _"_ _Good heavens!"_

 _"_ _Marigold!"_

 _"_ _Miss. Rosenberg!"_

 _Thud!_

 _Swaying. Moonlight. Whimpering. Pain. Darkness._

Marigold was thirsty.

She opened her eyes and recognized the hospital wing almost immediately. The room was too bright, the sunlight coming through the windows hurting her eyes. She wondered what day it was.

"You are a very brave girl," a soft voice said from beside her.

Marigold turned her head and saw that Professor Dumbledore was sitting next to her, a book in his lap.

"Sir?"

"Not many first years could have gone up against a mountain troll. It's amazing none of you died. I'm assuming that you are to thank for that good fortune."

"In all honesty sir, it was all thanks to the book you gave me," Marigold mumbled. And it was true; two of the spells she had used were only accessible to her because of the book.

"So you have been studying." Dumbledore smiled.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to write, sir. I _have_ been studying, though, Harry and Neville even joined me a couple times."

"Not to worry, my dear, not to worry. What's important is that the five of you got out safely. The others have been quite worried."

"They have? How long has it been?" Marigold tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain ripped through her. She fell back onto the pillow.

"Merely a night. Your classmates are probably just getting ready for breakfast," Dumbledore said.

At the thought of breakfast, Marigold's stomach growled; she hadn't eaten dinner last night. She wondered if she would be allowed to go down to breakfast, or if she would have to stay here. Thoughts of food left her mind when she remembered something.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Yes my dear?"

"I have been meaning to ask you something."

"Go on." Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, my parents weren't very nice to me, which I assume you already know. And, well, I have always run away from danger. But, ever since I got my wand, met Harry and Neville, and moved in with the Weasleys, it's… changed."

"And you are wondering why?"

"Yes, sir."

"The mind is a very tricky place, Miss Rosenberg, and the mind of a child such as yourself even more so. But let me ask you this: do you consider the Weasleys family?"

Marigold thought for a moment. Sure, she thought of Charlie like a brother, Fred and George a little bit as well. And even though she was still a little upset with Ron, she did consider him close… but _family_ was a very strong word. She couldn't call Mr. or Mrs. Weasley mom or dad, but she did feel like they were close.

"I don't know if I could call them family yet, professor. They are very dear to me though," Marigold said, after a while.

"What about Neville, or Harry, for that matter. Are they dear to you?"

"Of course. They are my best friends," she answered. That was a no-brainer.

"I think, Miss Rosenberg, that perhaps your response hasn't changed like you think it has," Professor Dumbledore mused. "If you had encountered the troll by yourself, would you have fought it, or would you have tried to run away?"

"I probably would have run away…" she said, lowering her head.

"There is no shame in that, my dear." Marigold looked up to see him staring at her over his spectacles. "It is important to choose your fights wisely," he continued, "I don't believe that your response has changed. When you were alone against your father, with no means of protecting yourself, you ran. If you had gone up to the troll by yourself, you would have had no reason to stay and fight.

"But when you found yourself in a situation where those you cared about were in harm's way, you took charge. You stood and fought. You are both very loyal and very brave. It was the same as when you went up against Draco Malfoy on the train. It was then that I took an interest in you."

"Is that why you gave me the book? Because I am brave and loyal?" she asked. She was slightly surprised that he did, in fact, know about the incident on the train.

"In part." His eyes twinkled.

Marigold was about to ask what his other reason or reasons were when she started coughing. Madam Pomfrey, who had been observing from afar, came rushing over, as if she had been waiting for Marigold to start coughing.

"Excuse me, Headmaster," she said, reaching over him to hand Marigold a handkerchief.

"I'll take my leave," Professor Dumbledore said. Marigold only nodded.

Marigold coughed and coughed, each cough causing her chest to burn. When she finally stopped, the handkerchief was covered in red spots.

"Oh dear," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "The boys had said you were hit, but I didn't realize it was this bad. I already fixed your ribs the best I could. Honestly, a loose troll…" Marigold listened as Madam Pomfrey shuffled away, muttering to herself.

When she came back, she handed Marigold a small vial of thick green liquid that looked worse than the troll bogies.

"Drink this. It will stop the bleeding," Madam Pomfrey demanded.

Marigold took the vial and downed it as fast as she could. It felt weird, and it tasted awful. It was cold like fresh snow, and when it got to her chest, it almost seemed to explode with cold. It tasted like clay and stale coffee.

"Yuck!" Marigold gagged.

"I know, but it will heal you a bit. Here's another bottle; take it if you start coughing blood again. It keeps for several months, but throw it away if you don't use it within the next week." She handed Marigold another bottle, which Marigold grudgingly took. "I fixed your ribs, but some may still be bruised. Frankly, my dear, you are lucky to even be alive… A full-grown mountain troll, indeed. You are free to go down to breakfast."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and turned around. Marigold carefully got up. The pain was a little less intense, but her ribs were still sore. She started toward the door, but turned around when Madam Pomfrey called her name.

"If you take the potion again, and continue coughing blood, come and see me immediately. I doubt it will happen, but don't try and be a hero. You have already done enough; we don't need to add permanent damage to the list."

"Yes ma'am."

Marigold smiled and headed to her dormitory, wanting to change out of her dirty robes before going to breakfast. Since she was famished, she decided to tie her hair up instead of wasting time on a shower. She quickly made it down to the Great Hall with twenty minutes before her first class.

When she walked into the Great Hall, it went quiet for a moment. Then whispers erupted through the hall. Marigold ignored them; she found Harry and Neville huddled up talking with Ron and Hermione. None of them had noticed her come in. She made her way over to the table and overheard them talking about her.

"Do you think she is going to be okay?" Neville asked.

"Of course she is," Hermione whispered back.

"I don't know, you didn't see her. She completely blacked out. Snape carried her to the hospital wing," Harry said.

"Snape did what now?" Marigold piped up, an uncomfortable feeling overriding her pain.

"Marigold!" Hermione squealed, jumping up to hug her.

"Good to see you too, Hermione." Marigold spat out a bit of Hermione's hair, which she had inhaled.

"You saved my life!" she said, finally letting Marigold go.

"No, that would be Ron. He got you out of there."

"No, you saved her life," Ron piped up.

Marigold looked over to him. The two nodded at each other, forgiving one another for what the other had said the previous day. Marigold sat down and loaded up her plate.

"So, what happened after I passed out?" Marigold asked through bites of toast.

"Well, Snape carried you to the hospital wing," Neville said, making a face. "Professor McGonagall chastised us a little bit for not going for a teacher immediately, but she ended up giving Harry, Ron, and me five points each."

"She gave you fifteen, after what Neville told her you did," Harry said, beaming.

"She _what?_ "

"It's not that hard to believe, you _were_ amazing," Ron said. "You know, I always see you trying to cast magic in the common room, right? You always looked kind of bad. But I saw you cast a spell without words. You confused the troll, and gave Hermione time to escape… I'm sorry I've been judging you."

"It's alright, Ron. But could I ask the two of you to keep it to yourself?" Marigold asked, turning from Ron to Hermione. "I don't want word getting around that I can do nonverbal magic."

"Of course," Hermione said. Ron nodded in agreement.

After breakfast, the five of them walked to potions together. Knowing Snape had carried her to the hospital wing did not change Marigold's view of him. If anything, she felt more awkward around him.

When she sat down in her usual seat, Dean turned to her to ask her if she was ok. Dean asked her a lot of questions, questions that Marigold did not want to answer. The two of them worked on another potion all class.

Snape usually walked around, checking to make sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, but today he just sat in his chair, glaring at all of them individually. Marigold knew she would have to thank him for getting her to the hospital wing, but she really didn't want to.

After class, Marigold told Dean she would take the vial of potion to Snape. She told her friends to go on without her. She waited until the class was empty before walking over to Snape's desk.

"Our potion, sir." She handed him the small vial. He took it without a word and turned back to his book on the desk. "Um, Professor Snape?"

"Miss Rosenberg?" he asked, looking up from his book, his eyes quizzical. She really didn't want to do this.

"I want to say thank you for getting me to the hospital wing last night."

"You don't need to thank me. It's my job as a professor to take care of students."

"Could have fooled me," Marigold murmured to herself. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow and she coughed. "All the same, thank you." She smiled as best as she could, then turned and rushed out of the room.

Marigold didn't have much homework to do, and she really didn't feel like going back to the common room; her friends looked at her worriedly every time she so much as moved.

While walking up the stairs, she made the quick decision to mail the letter she had written to Charlie. A lot of the first years were out for the day, but she ignored them easily enough, even if a couple of them pointed and whispered.

As she drew closer to the Owlery, the students started to thin out, until she was the only one walking around in that part of the castle. The stairs up to the Owlery proved somewhat difficult to walk up. When she reached the top she was out of breath, her chest stinging with pain each time she inhaled. She would really have to get in shape if she expected to get anything done in her next six and a half years here at Hogwarts.

She pushed open the door, the familiar stench of owl overwhelming her nose. When she walked in, she realized she wasn't alone.

"Neville?" she asked. He turned around in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"My gran sent me a letter, so I'm sending one back. What are you doing here?"

"Mailing a letter to Charlie," she said, pulling a letter out of her robes.

"Oh."

Marigold attached her letter to the owl she had been using, then watched as it flew off into the sky. Neville finished tying off his letter, and then watched as his bird disappeared, too.

Marigold turned her attention to the lawn; several students were running about down below. She thought Neville had left, he was being so still; but when he shuffled his feet, it startled her.

"Hey Marigold?"

"Yeah?" she asked lazily.

"You were pretty amazing."

"You said the same thing to me after the dog incident." Marigold chuckled, then winced.

"You were amazing then, too." She could almost hear him blushing.

"You think so?" she asked. She watched as a boy and girl chased each other around on the ground below.

"Yeah… you didn't even seem scared. With the dog, or last night with the troll. You just took charge. Does anything scare you? Do you run from anything?"

Marigold turned to Neville; his eyes were watery. She wanted to tell him she wasn't scared of anything; the frightened look on his face made her want to lie.

"I was terrified." She could feel her hands start to shake at the memories, but she continued. "With the dog. With the troll. With everything, really. I have been scared all my life, Neville. I spent almost all my time at home running away from one or both my parents. But you guys needed me, so I stayed.

"But so did you, Nev." She put a hand on his shoulder. "When Harry and I needed you, you stayed, too. I know you were scared, because I was scared. We are first years, so of course we were scared."

"Do you think anything like this will happen again, in this year or the next few years here at Hogwarts?" Neville asked, staring at her hand.

"I don't know, Nev. All I know is that we should be prepared if they do. We survived last night because we have practiced spells every night since the dog."

"I guess you're right…"

Marigold just nodded, removing her hand. She turned and looked down at the kids below. The girl caught the boy and they were horsing around in the grass. Marigold smiled and shook her head.

"Come on, Neville. Harry is probably wondering where we are."

When she turned to him, his eyes were no longer watery. They were sparkling.

A full week had passed, and Marigold was healing exceptionally well. She figured her talk with Dumbledore counted as an update, so she didn't write to him, planning on doing so on Saturday after the Quidditch match.

As for the potion Madam Pomfrey gave her, she hadn't needed it yet. She had been holding it over the bin, about to throw it away like she was told, when she put it back in her pocket. She remembered Madam Pomfrey saying it could keep for several months. Judging by her track record so far, she would probably need this again before it expired.

If not, she could always give it to Hermione to help her figure out what kind of potion it was. For future reference, of course.

Hermione and Ron became the best of friends the moment he rescued her from the troll. The two of them hung out with Neville, Harry, and herself, sometimes, but they spent most of their time together.

Harry had been spending all his time at Quidditch practice, so his grades were starting to slip. It took both Neville and herself nagging him at night for him to finish his homework. The assignments weren't too difficult anymore, just time consuming, and Harry was often tired.

Marigold and Hermione were in an academic death match against each other. Hermione was considerably the brightest witch Marigold had ever met; her affinity for magic was legend. But Marigold was arguably the most diligent. She studied longer and harder than some of the seventh years taking their N.E.W.T.s.

The two girls helped each other out at times, but most of the time it was an unspoken battle to be the top of the class.

Hermione was great though; she lent Harry a book about Quidditch, which he spent all his free time reading.

Well, Harry _had_ been spending all his free time reading it, until Snape took it away… along with five Gryffindor points. He had claimed library books weren't aloud outside, but Marigold was sure he made that rule up.

At least Marigold and the boys had learned something from the encounter: why Snape wasn't strutting around during classes anymore. He had a terrible limp. She hoped it hurt.

Ever since the encounter with Professor Snape, Harry had been on edge. It was almost as if that book was the only thing keeping him sane in the face of the Quidditch match tomorrow.

Marigold sighed into her Astronomy book and looked up at Harry.

"Harry, it's very difficult to concentrate on the moons of Saturn with you pacing like that," she sighed, closing the book.

"I think I'm going to try to get my book back," he said.

"Better you than me," Neville mumbled from behind his Astronomy book.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Neville." Harry smirked, then waved to Marigold.

She waved back and watched as he left the common room out through the portrait hole. Marigold thought nothing of it, and went back to her book.

She was just going over information about the moon Rhea when Harry came bursting though the portrait hole. He had a strange look on his face. He rushed over to Marigold and Neville and sat down.

"What is it?"

"Did you get the book?" Neville asked.

"No, I didn't, but I figured out why Snape is limping," Harry said excitedly.

Harry now had their undivided attention.

"So, I went to the staffroom to get my book back. I knocked a few times, but there was no answer. I opened the door, figuring Snape might have left the book there, but when I opened the door, I saw Snape and Filch. One of Snape's legs was all bloody and mangled, and Filch was handing him bandages."

"What?" Marigold breathed.

"It gets better… or worse, I guess," Harry continued. "Snape said something along the lines of 'how are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?'"

"You don't mean…"

"I do! He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween! He must be after whatever it's guarding. I'd bet my broomstick _he_ let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Neville let out a gasp. Marigold wrapped her arms around herself at the memory of the troll, the mere thought causing her chest to sting a bit.

"But what's he after? What's the dog guarding?" Marigold asked.

"I have no idea," Harry sighed.

Marigold went to bed with too much on her mind. She didn't dream about the troll, or the three-headed dog, though she knew it was only a matter of time before she had another nightmare.

When she woke up the next morning, she was restless. Harry's Quidditch game was today, and she had to write to Dumbledore. She simply had no time in her day to be moody.

She got out of bed, trudged to the bathroom, and found herself face to face with Fae Dunbar, who, for who knows what reason, was up at six this morning. Marigold didn't say anything; she just grabbed her towel out of her cubby.

"Hey," Fae said.

"Yeah?" Marigold asked, having reservations about the whole situation.

"I was thinking, the two pictures on your wall are looking kind of lonely. What happened to your admirer?"

Marigold sighed, rolling her head back to look at the ceiling.

"I don't know, Fae, what happened to you? Did you run out of beasts to compare me to, or is the only one left you?" Marigold asked, grinning at Fae.

"You are in for it now," Fae hissed.

"In for what?" Marigold asked feigning confusion. "More weak bullying? Really, Fae, you need to either get new material or just quit."

Marigold walked past Fae and into one of the shower stalls. She heard Fae leave, muttering to herself. Marigold just smirked and took her shower.

Marigold went down to the common room and found Harry already up. He was pacing around, looking stressed. When Marigold caught his eye, he paused momentarily.

"Nah, you keep on pacing if it's helping." She smiled and sat down in her usual spot.

"It's not helping," Harry sighed, taking a seat next to her.

"I have something that might cheer you up," Marigold said, grinning.

Marigold then proceeded to tell Harry about her morning of snark, how she outwitted Fae Dunbar and made her look like a fool. By the time she was done, Harry had cheered up and was laughing.

When Neville came down, Marigold relayed the story to him as the three walked down to breakfast.

"You did not," Neville laughed.

"I did," she chuckled.

When the three of them walked into the Great Hall, Marigold saw Harry's grin fall from his face. She followed his gaze and saw Oliver Wood spooning eggs onto his plate. The sight of the Quidditch captain must have reminded Harry how nervous he was. The sight of Oliver Wood made Marigold nervous, too. But, Marigold assumed the reason was different.

As they took their seats, the whole table hummed excitedly about the game. Harry blanched. Marigold and Neville spent the rest of breakfast trying to convince him to eat something.

"Come on, Harry, just a bit of toast," Marigold pleaded.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled back.

"Harry, you need your strength," Seamus chimed in. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Not helping!" Marigold said, and Seamus just shrugged.

"You will be great, Harry," Neville said. But Marigold could tell that Harry's nerves were rubbing off on Neville.

"Thanks, Neville," Harry mumbled, though he continued to refuse his food.

Harry had gone to the locker room an hour or so previous, so Marigold and Neville were standing in the bleachers high above the Quidditch pitch. They were standing next to Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus.

The others had come up with an idea to surprise Harry, though the two had neglected to inform Marigold and Neville about the situation. Scabbers had ruined some of Ron's sheets, so the four had created a large banner with _Potter for President_. Dean, who Marigold knew was good at drawing (since he doodled all over his potions notes), had drawn a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Hermione had preformed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

"Wow, guys, this is amazing!" Marigold said when she saw it.

"We were going to get you guys in on it, but you were always with Harry, or studying," Dean said, smiling at Marigold.

"Harry is going to love it!" Neville exclaimed.

All of them beamed in response. Marigold started talking with Hermione, who was asking how Marigold felt. The two decided to share binoculars, whilst Neville and the others shared a pair between the four of them.

Harry and the team came out of the locker room, and the stands went wild. Marigold was filled with exhilaration; she was cheering, Hermione was screaming, and the boys were chanting "Potter for President".

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field, waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. Marigold couldn't hear what she was saying, but eventually, everyone mounted their brooms.

Madam Hooch blew into her whistle; Marigold was able to hear the shrill _ffft_ , and immediately, fifteen brooms hurdled into the air.

Once the game began, Marigold was having a hard time figuring out what was going on. Luckily, Lee Jordan was announcing, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too…"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Marigold and her friends roared with laughter. It was still hard to figure out what was going on; everything was so fast, but with Lee Jordan doing his commentary, it made it easier.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find off Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve—Back to Johnson and—no, Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes…"

Marigold and Hermione were switching off binoculars every so often. They were around Marigold's neck, but the two were huddled so close that it didn't matter. When Gryffindor scored for the first time, Marigolds ears started ringing with her friends' cheers.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!" Marigold exclaimed.

Marigold and Hermione moved over, Marigold squished against Neville now, Hermione next to Hagrid.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid said, patting a large pair of his own binoculars, which were several times larger than Marigold's. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"No, Harry hasn't had much to do yet," Marigold said.

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's something," Hagrid said, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Marigold tuned back in to Radio Jordan.

"Slytherin in possession. Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the—wait a moment—was that the Snitch?"

Marigold saw a flash of gold through her binoculars, but then it was gone. Harry dived down, chasing the snitch; at least, she assumed that's what he was doing. The Slytherin seeker, Terrence Higgs, had seen it, too. Marigold watched as he zoomed to Harry, and, side-by-side, they hurdled toward the Snitch.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Marcus Flint whammed into Harry, who went spinning in another direction, hanging on for dear life.

The Gryffindors bellowed with rage. Hermione grabbed the binoculars as Marigold was about to attempt to hurl them at Flint.

Dean was screaming some soccer term, which confused Ron. Hagrid seemed worried that Harry could have fallen. Marigold was just upset because in all of the confusion, the Snitch had disappeared again.

Lee Jordan, who was still announcing, was having a difficult time not taking sides.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"

" _Jordan, I'm warning you—"_

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Marigold was watching Harry. He dodged a Bludger, which nearly missed his head. Suddenly, everything started happening very fast.

One second Harry was fine, looking for the Snitch, and the next, he was being bucked off his broom.

"If I didn' know better, I'd say Harry's lost control of his broom…" Hagrid said, looking through his own pair of binoculars.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic."

At that, Hermione grabbed the binoculars from Marigold, nearly choking her in the process. But instead of looking at Harry, she started frantically looking around the stands.

"Oh no," she whispered.

"What is it?" Neville and Marigold asked in unison.

"It can't be, Snape… just look."

Hermione handed Marigold the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry, and he was muttering under his breath. Marigold handed the binoculars to Neville, who whimpered.

"What should we do?" Marigold asked, suddenly very serious. Her eyes darted to Harry, who was still bucking around.

"I have an idea," Hermione said.

Before either Marigold or Neville could ask, Hermione pushed past Ron, nearly knocking him over, then disappeared.

Neville looked back into the binoculars. Marigold just watched as Fred and George tried to pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms. But every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still.

One of Harry's hands slipped, and Marigold's hand jumped to Neville's, who was no longer holding the binoculars, but had his eyes closed. She barely noticed he was squeezing back.

Fred and George dropped lower and started circling beneath Harry, hoping to catch him if he fell.

All of a sudden, Harry's broom stopped trying to throw him off, and he was able to clamber back on. The crowd cheered, and Marigold was able to breathe again.

"You can open your eyes, Nev, Harry's okay!"

Neville only opened his eyes; he didn't say anything. Marigold turned back to the pitch and saw Harry speeding toward the ground, though still in full control of his broom. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his mouth as if he was going to be sick, and he hit the field on all fours. He coughed, and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

Marigold cheered when she realized they had won the game. Hermione returned moments later, explaining she set Snape's robes on fire. Marigold grinned; Hermione really was brilliant.

The stands started to empty, and Marigold realized Neville was still holding onto her hand. He seemed to notice at the same time, and let go.

Twenty minutes later, Flint was howling about how Harry "caught" the Snitch. But Harry hadn't broken any rules, so it made no difference. Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. The trio heard none of this, though, because they were in Hagrid's hut, drinking tea, and discussing the game.

"It was Snape," Marigold explained. "Hermione found him, and Neville and I saw him. He was cursing your broom, muttering."

"Rubbish," Hagrid said, who apparently hadn't heard a word of what happened next to him on the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Marigold, Harry, and Neville looked at each other, wondering what to say. Harry finally decided to tell Hagrid the truth.

"I found out something about him," he said slowly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he's trying to steal whatever it's guarding."  
"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked, dropping his teapot.

" _Fluffy?_ " Neville asked, slack jawed.

"Yeah, he's mine! Won him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…"

"Yes?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, that's top secret, that is. No more questions."

"But Snape is trying to _steal_ it!" Harry argued.

"Nonsense, Snape's a Hogwarts teacher. He'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he try to kill Harry?" Marigold asked. "Why is he creepy around me? Why does he hate Harry and Neville? I know a jinx when I see one, and so does Hermione. Snape wasn't blinking, we saw him!"

"Yer wrong! I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn'! Now listen to me, yer meddlin' in things that ought not be meddled in. You forget about the dog, an' what it's guarding', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel…"

"Aha!" Harry yelled. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved!"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Marigold couldn't blame him; he _had_ given up top-secret information. And now the three of them had something they had needed for weeks: a clue.

(A/N: Long chapter this time around, hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading. Please review!)


	15. Christmas Controversy

(A/N: First off, I am so sorry it took so long to post, I got caught up in trash TV and things got out of hand. Second, a message to a guest at the end of the chapter. I hope it clears things up for you, as well as the rest of my readers. Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

The rest of November came and went, seemingly as quickly as the Quidditch match had ended.

Marigold had written to Dumbledore after the match, telling him about her studies and about her schoolwork. She asked him about the jinx in the back of the book, if he had written it in there or if it had always been there. She didn't ask him what his other reasons were for taking a special interest in her. She figured that could wait.

Dumbledore had responded several days later, telling her he had created the spell himself, and written it down. That got Marigold thinking; she wondered if someday she would be able to create her own spells. She also wondered why Dumbledore created such a jinx.

Marigold and Charlie were still in contact, of course. He kept telling her about the dragons (they were nearly full grown now), and she told him of her adventures at Hogwarts. She told him about the Quidditch match and about classes. He would always write back: _I miss Hogwarts._

As November turned into December, Marigold's thoughts were scattered. On the one hand, she was thinking about Nicholas Flamel; on the other, Saint Nick.

Harry, Neville, and she had tried everything they could think of in search of this mysterious Flamel. She had asked Hermione, who said she didn't know but that the name sounded somewhat familiar. Harry and Neville had a conversation with Hagrid, who was still very peeved that he had said anything. And all three of them had spent countless hours in the library.

The bags under her eyes had been the worst they had ever been, and she hadn't slept more than five hours in who knew how long. And even then, she often found herself waking in a cold sweat, visions of three headed trolls or dogs with sticks imprinted into her mind.

Marigold was having a hard time getting her homework done, let alone helping Harry and Neville. Her planner was as snarky as ever, and one day, in History of Magic, she found out what happened if she didn't turn in an assignment: a very loud shrieking noise that thoroughly embarrassed her and disrupted the last few minutes of class.

When she wasn't doing homework, looking for Nicholas Flamel, or sleeping, Marigold's mind was thinking about the holidays. She didn't know if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wanted her to go home for Christmas, and if they did, she didn't know if she could. Christmas was a time for family, and as Marigold had told Dumbledore, she didn't know if she could call them family yet.

Eventually, Marigold received a letter from Mrs. Weasley. The letter informed Marigold that Mrs. Weasley and her husband were going to visit Charlie in Romania, so Marigold and the other Weasley boys would have to stay at Hogwarts.

Marigold was relieved, and when Professor McGonagall came around a few days later, Marigold happily put her name down as one of the students staying for the holidays. Harry signed on as well, but Neville and basically everyone else were going home.

Marigold sent Mrs. Weasley a list of gifts she wanted to get for her friends and Charlie. She sent addresses to send the gifts to, and a small bag of Galleons. Mrs. Weasley was happy to oblige.

One morning in mid-December, she woke up and found all of Hogwarts covered in several feet of snow. The lake was frozen solid, and Fred and George got in trouble for bewitching several snowballs so that they hit Quirrell in the back of the head. Marigold made them swear to teach her the trick someday.

It was the next day that Marigold and Harry said goodbye to Neville. They promised to write if they found anything about Flamel. Marigold hugged him and wished him happy holidays.

Marigold was the only one in her dormitory, since the other girls opted to go home. Harry and Ron were the only two in their dorm, and the common room was all but empty. Very few Gryffindors decided to stay. Marigold, having no homework, let herself relax more. Harry and she had decided to lay off on the Flamel search, and Marigold was all the better for it.

Harry and Marigold hung out with Ron a lot, playing games of wizard chess, the both of them attempting to beat him. Marigold managed once the first day of break, and the two had started another game, when Fred and George, interrupted dragging them all outside for a snowball fight.

On Christmas Eve, Marigold said goodnight and went to bed in her empty dorm. She told Harry she would rush over to his and Ron's dorm first thing to open presents.

She absentmindedly took off her locket, lost in the thoughts of Christmas. She accidently dropped it; she contemplated leaving it on the floor. She didn't know why she still wore the thing.

With a sigh, Marigold picked it up and put it on her nightstand. She had been wearing it for months now, taking it off at night, putting it on in the morning. She wondered, for the first time in several months, what her father was up to. She didn't miss him, per se, but she fondly remembered Christmases at home with lights and a tree.

She crawled into bed, went to sleep, and dreamt of crackers and fancily wrapped gifts.

When she woke up the next morning, she saw several gifts at the foot of her bed. Elated, she scooped them onto a blanket and rushed over to Ron and Harry's dorm.

"Guys, wake up," she said, bursting through the door. "Wake up, it's Christmas!"

Ron mumbled unintelligibly, but Harry got up.

"Happy Christmas, Marigold," Harry said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Whoa, I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron asked, getting up and turning to his own pile. "Happy Christmas, Marigold."

"Happy Christmas, Ron!" she said, hopping on what she knew was Neville's bed and dumping her gifts.

Harry started off, opening something form his aunt and uncle. He got a fifty-pence piece, which fascinated Ron so much that Harry gave it to him. He also got a flute from Hagrid, which looked as though Hagrid had whittled it himself. Marigold also got something from Hagrid: a pretty hand made box with flowers that looked similar to the ones on her wand.

All three of them got sweaters from Mrs. Weasley. Harry's and Marigold's were both green with their initials on them, though Harry's was emerald green, and hers was olive. Ron got maroon, which he was not happy about, complaining that it was his least favorite color.

"This is so nice!" Harry said, slipping on the sweater.

Marigold got a well of blue ink from Neville. Harry got his very own copy of _Quidditch Through The Ages_ with a note written on the inside saying _since you never got the copy back from Snape_. Marigold hoped Neville liked the journal she got him.

Marigold got Harry a book listing all the fouls one could make in a Quidditch game, and Harry had gotten her a pack of chocolate frogs.

Hermione had gotten Marigold and Harry the same thing: a pack of Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans. Marigold still had a few presents left when Fred and George came bursting in to squirrel Ron out of the room. Harry and Marigold laughed as Ron tried to protest. But the twins insisted. They wished Marigold Happy Christmas, then left.

Marigold had turned back to her own gifts when something silvery caught her eye. She looked over and found Harry staring at the gleaming folds of what looked like a silver blanket.

"What is that?" Marigold asked, putting her gift on the bed.

"No idea." Harry picked it up, feeling it through his fingers. "It feel's weird, like water, but it's fabric."

"Well, put it on then!" Marigold said enthusiastically.

Harry jumped up off his bed and wrapped the fabric around his shoulders. It was a cloak. Marigold yelped.

"Harry, look at your feet!"

Harry looked down and let out a gasp, because where his feet were supposed to be, there was nothing. Marigold watched as he dashed to the mirror. Well, she watched as his head floated to the mirror. His whole body was gone. When he pulled the hood over his head, he vanished completely.

"There's a note!" Marigold said, pointing at Harry's bed.

Harry ripped off the cloak and seized the letter. The two of them read the loopy handwriting:

 _Your father left this in my possession before_

 _he died. It is time it was returned to you._

 _Use it well._

 _A Very Merry Christmas to you_

Marigold recognized the handwriting, but a sudden odd feeling engulfed her. For some reason she felt that she shouldn't tell Harry whose handwriting this was, like it was a secret; she couldn't explain it. She opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately thought better of it.

Harry looked confused; Marigold wished she didn't have the awkward feeling. She almost told him again, but couldn't get the words to form.

Marigold turned back to her remaining gifts. She got a book about dragons from Charlie, and a bunch of Muggle candy from Dean. She remembered telling him during a particularly boring Potions class that she missed some of the treats.

Lastly, she turned to a very small parcel; it had a card next to it. She opened the card and found the same loopy handwriting that had just caused her so much anxiety.

 _The light shines only for you,_

 _Never faltering, never diming, never running out._

 _May it help in your endeavors,_

 _or guide you in dark times._

 _Happy Christmas to you_

It seemed clear to Marigold, now that Dumbledore had left _her_ card unsigned, that she wasn't supposed to tell Harry about his gift. For whatever reason, Dumbledore didn't want Harry to know, and somehow Dumbledore wanted her to keep it secret as well. She didn't know how she felt about that, especially since she somehow knew not to say anything in the first place.

Marigold looked up. Harry was playing peek-a-boo with himself, paying her no mind, wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak. She quickly hid the letter amongst her other gifts. She turned to the small parcel and ripped it open.

Lying in a small box was a black candle, no larger than her hand, no wider than her forefinger. It looked old; she wasn't sure how she knew, though. Maybe it was the fact that it had drips rolling down it, or the fact that the wick looked slightly charred and frayed.

Marigold gently placed the candle back in the box and hid it amongst her other gifts. Looking up, she caught Harry's head floating about, making weird faces to himself in the mirror.

"Hey, Harry's head," she said, startling him. "What do you say we try and join Ron and the others in their game?"

The Halloween feast had nothing on the Christmas feast. Turkey, potatoes, gravy, and everything she could imagine was spilled out in front of her on the Gryffindor table. Back when Marigold's mom lived with them, she would bustle around in the kitchen, making just one turkey. Marigold wondered what kind of magic helped make these, because there had to be a hundred.

The party favors were nothing like what she was used to, the silly plastic toys and the paper hats that always broke. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred, and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them in a cloud of blue smoke. Marigold and Percy pulled one together, and Marigold got a hairband that could either be bright green or bright blue depending on what way she turned her head.

Up at the high table, Dumbledore had traded his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet. He caught her eye and smiled; Marigold grinned back, all feelings of uneasiness gone. Marigold caught sight of a drinking Hagrid, who was getting redder and redder in the face, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who giggled and blushed. Harry and Marigold exchanged glances, then laughed.

Harry, Ron, and Marigold trudged back to Gryffindor tower, laden down with their cracker prizes. Notably, Harry got his own chess set, and Marigold got a really pretty new quill.

It had been Marigold's best Christmas ever; she bid Harry and the Weasleys good night, then went up to her room.

Halfway through the night she woke up in a daze. She wondered if Harry would be stupid enough to go out exploring the castle with his cloak. Then, she realized that in his situation, she would do just that. She rolled over and went back to sleep, dreaming about birds and blue smoke.

"I knew it! You went out last night." Marigold whispered.

She had been up hanging out in the common room, waiting for Harry to wake up. When he came down, he had bags under his eyes.

"How did you— never mind that, I have something to tell you about!" Harry looked nervously around the common room, but they were the only two there.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"So I used the cloak last night to check out the restricted section for Nicholas Flamel. And before you ask, I didn't find anything. But long story short, I had to run from Filch, and found myself in an abandoned classroom, and you will never guess what I found!"

"The coffin vampire-Snape sleeps in?" she asked, joking but half hopeful.

"Better, I found my parents."

"Your… okay, how?" Marigold asked.

"It's a mirror, I'll take you tonight. Meet me here tonight after curfew."

"Oh, okay. Sure Harry."

Marigold's first adventure under the cloak was miserable. Harry wasn't sure where the room was, and they were searching for hours. Marigold was cold and her feet hurt, but Harry was frantic, so she kept her mouth shut.

Finally, just as Marigold was going to suggest they take a break, or better yet head back, Harry found the room. The door had barely closed before Harry's cloak was on the ground, and Marigold found herself in a room with a regal looking mirror.

The mirror was as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I just see us, Harry," Marigold whispered back.

"Just stand here…" but Harry's voice drifted away.

Marigold didn't see Harry's parents. She didn't even see the classroom.

Inside the mirror, she found a large field of marigolds, and in the center of the field she found herself standing there. Only it wasn't her, well not really, this version of her looked maybe seventeen. She was beautiful, and standing in the field of marigolds, she looked like she was wading through fire.

But older Marigold wasn't alone; standing next to her were older versions of Neville and Harry. The three of them together looked powerful, fierce, and magical. But even Neville and Harry weren't the only other two there. Standing all around in the open field were the Weasleys. They were all smiling.

Looking at them, Marigold could tell that this older Marigold was considered family to the Weasleys. A daughter, even.

"Marigold!" Harry's voice shocked her. She turned away from the mirror. "You don't see them do you?" His voice was sad.

"No, I'm sorry, Harry." She whispered. Her voice was shaky, and her face felt wet. When had she started crying?

"What do you…"

"My family. We should go." She fought the urge to look back at the mirror.

"No, I want to see my parents," Harry said, pushing in front of the mirror.

"Harry, please." Marigold wiped her eyes; she was tired and frustrated.

"NO!"

A sudden noise kept Marigold from responding; the two of them didn't realize how loud they were being. Marigold threw the cloak over them just as Mrs. Norris came around the door. After a long time, she turned and left.

Marigold turned her head and found Harry staring through the cloak and into the mirror. With a sigh she tugged on his arm.

"Come on, Harry. She might have gone for Filch, we have to go."

Harry didn't respond, so Marigold pulled him out of the room and all the way back to Gryffindor tower.

"Harry, I think it would be best if you didn't go back…"

It was the morning after Marigold had seen the mirror, and she had been trying to convince Harry not to go back for about an hour. The two of them were sitting down for breakfast, but Harry wasn't eating. He wasn't listening to her, either. He was just… moping.

"Really, Harry, look at you, you haven't slept, and you aren't eating." Harry didn't even look up at her. His bloodshot eyes were staring off into space. "Harry…"

"What do you want me to say, Marigold?" Harry snapped, startling her.

"Say you won't go back."

"They are my parents…"

"No they aren't, Harry, we have been over this. It's just a mirror. Your parents are…"

"Dead, I know!" Harry barked.

"I was going to say _gone_." Marigold's eyes stung, but she was not going to cry.

"Dead, gone, what's the difference?" Harry glowered.

"Either way, the mirror can't bring them back. I'm your friend, Harry, and I think I understand…"

"How could you? Your parents aren't dead," Harry growled, standing up from the table.

"Yeah, but _I'm dead to them_."

"Just mind your own business, Marigold," Harry deadpanned. He turned and walked away before Marigold could say anything else.

Marigold watched him go, knowing she had gone too far, and fearing she might have lost one of her best friends.

Marigold groaned and slammed her head onto the table, making a dull _thwack_. She didn't cry; she felt like it, but this was too public, so she just stayed there, her head resting on the table. She didn't look up until she felt two fingers poking both of her shoulders.

She looked up, her chin still on the table, to find Fred and George leaning over the table, tapping her.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" she asked. Her voice sounded hollow.

"We were wondering if you wanted to go have another snowball fight," George said, grinning.

"After the one on Christmas day, Ron and Percy aren't so keen to join," Fred added.

"Well, we did pelt them in the face with snow," Marigold said, smiling just a little.

"Isn't that the point?" Fred said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Besides, we'll teach you the spell we used to pelt Quirrell with snowballs," George said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'm in!" Marigold said, jumping up so fast she banged her hip on the table.

"Atta girl!"

The three of them made their way outside; the snow was so thick, it went halfway to Marigold's knees. The first thing the twins did was teach her the spell. It was fairly simple, and they were very patient with her. It only took her a couple of tries to get it.

After that, the three of them decided to split up, every man for himself. Marigold knew that the two of them would eventually team up, but she didn't care. True enough, ten minutes later, Marigold was squared off against the two of them.

Oddly enough, she was doing pretty well. She ducked and dodged, only getting hit every so often. But, most importantly, she was laughing. She was still worried about her fight with Harry, but that was on the backburner.

After about twenty minutes of leisurely fighting, Fred pretended to get hit, and went down. George swore vengeance, and the leisurely fighting turned into an all out battle between Marigold and George.

George tried to pelt her with a snowball while she was making more for herself; she managed to dodge last minute. She threw the snowball in her hand at George, but he was out of her range already. There were several similar close calls, for both Marigold and George. The intense battle lasted maybe ten minutes, but it ended when George nailed Marigold straight in the back; she had noticed too late.

She fell face first in the snow, the cold stinging her face a little, and rolled over, giggling. She tried to say, "Avenge me!" but it came out all warbled and unintelligible.

Fred and George appeared over her, laughing, and George offered to help her up. She took his hand, but pulled him down into the snow with her.

"You fell for the oldest trick in the book!" she cackled.

"Seriously, George, even I saw that coming," Fred said as he laid down on her other side.

George spat out some snow. "Yeah, well, whatever," he chuckled.

"So, Marigold, what happened?" Fred asked. She knew he was asking about why she had been so upset earlier, but she couldn't make herself talk about her fight with Harry.

"Oh, I don't really know. I guess I'm wired for snowball fights."

"Right," Fred said, knowing when to drop the subject.

The three of them stayed there in the snow, talking for a long time. After a while, Marigold couldn't feel her legs, and the three of them went inside. They had been out there for so long that they only had just enough time to change out of their wet clothes before lunch.

Marigold noticed that Harry was nowhere to be found, so she sat and ate with Ron and the twins. After lunch, Ron challenged Marigold to a game of wizard chess, and she happily agreed. Anything to keep her mind off of Harry, she thought.

Ron and Marigold played until dinner, talking and laughing. Marigold was getting better at the strategy, and it got to the point where Ron actually had to plan his next move and concentrate. She got lucky and beat him once, but the next game he swamped her again.

Marigold went down to dinner and saw Harry pecking at his food. He looked up at her and frowned; she suddenly didn't feel so hungry. She told Ron to go ahead, and she retreated, like a coward, back to her dorm, wondering the whole way if she had, in fact, lost Harry as a friend.

The next morning, she walked down to the common room. She waited for Harry for ten minutes before remembering he probably didn't want to see her, let alone go down to breakfast with her.

She debated whether to go to breakfast or go back to bed. She hadn't had dinner, but bed sounded better than going to the Great Hall only to sit by herself with Harry several feet away, also sitting by himself, not even looking at her. Yeah, bed sounded good.

"Marigold?"

Marigold looked up and saw Harry standing at the foot of the staircase. His eyes had bags under them; he had gone to see the mirror again.

"Were you waiting for me?"

"I always do." She stood up. "But if you don't want me to, I'll just…" she stopped talking because her voice starting shaking.

"Marigold…"

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry." Tears were blurring her vision. "I don't know what it's like to lose my parents, at least not the same way you have. I was silly to say I understood. I thought I did, but I… I…"

Harry interrupted her with a hug; by now she was really crying, but she didn't care.

"Marigold, I know you were trying to help. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm really sorry."

"Me too, I know how important they are to you, I should have…"

"No, you were right," Harry said, letting go of her. She could barely see him through her tears. "You are my best friend, I know you have your own things just like I have mine. But I was so… _obsessed_ with seeing them it clouded my judgment. I'm sorry."

"It's the mirror, I hardly wanted to leave… I wanted to go back with you."

"The mirror is being moved," Harry said; his voice was pained.

"What?"

"I saw Dumbledore last night, he told me the mirror is getting moved. He told me a lot of other things, and they made me realize just how mean I had been. But I think it's good that the mirror is being moved."

"Me too, that way neither of us will be tempted."

"Yeah." Harry smiled faintly.

"Harry, are we okay?" Harry looked up at her, confused. "Are we still friends," she clarified.

"Of course, Marigold."

Marigold beamed in response. All her worries fell away, and she felt a thousand pounds lighter.

"Then let's go to breakfast, I'm starving," she said, dragging Harry toward the portrait hole.

In the Great Hall, Marigold was stuffing her face with sausage and toast and telling Harry about her snowball fight with the twins when a small owl dropped a note in between the two of them. They looked at each other, confused expressions on their faces. It was from Neville. They would be seeing him in a few days so why would he send them a letter?

Harry ripped it open.

 _Marigold, Harry,_

 _Thanks for the gifts. I had a wonderful Christmas. You will never guess what happened. I won't say anything over letter, but I thought you would want to know right away… I know who_ he _is. I'll explain everything when I get back!_

 _See you soon,_

 _Neville_

Marigold and Harry exchanged excited glances. Neville had figured out who Nicolas Flamel was! Filled with a new sense of determination, Marigold and Harry couldn't wait for the holidays to end, and for Neville to come back.

(A/N: Yay, Progress! To the guest who thinks I'm turning Snape into a pedophile, I am not. That would be over the top, and wrong. I apologize if that is the vibe you are getting. Nothing will ever happen between Marigold and Snape, Marigold simply reminds him of Lily Evans. As to your comment about him never being creepy, please read Half Blood Prince, I can assure you that Snape is, in fact, very creepy. Thank you for the review, I hope this cleared things up for you. As for the rest of you, I hope this cleared up any of your doubts, if you had any. Thank you for reading! And please, continue to review.)


	16. The Kids Aren't Alright

(A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to post. Life has been busy for so long, good, but busy. I hope those of you who have stuck around this long can forgive me for the lateness. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

After receiving Neville's letter, the Christmas holidays passed by rather quickly for Marigold and Harry. The both of them were so excited to hear what Neville had found. Whenever the two of them were together, Harry couldn't stop talking about Flamel. It would have been annoying except for the fact that things were sometimes tense between the two of them, and having something to talk about was better than awkward silence.

Marigold had hoped that when they made up, the two of them could go back to normal. She had never really had to deal with fights among friends, seeing as she never had any. She figured everything would go back the way it was. Unfortunately, it took a while for Marigold and Harry to get back in the swing of things. Neither of them mentioned the mirror, but Marigold knew its absence was bothering him.

Every once in a while, Harry would stare off into space, a vacant expression on his face. Marigold knew he was thinking about his parents. Marigold thought about the mirror and what she saw, though she tried not to. She knew they would tell Neville about it; but for the time being, she was content with not mentioning it.

Marigold missed Neville very much; she missed talking, laughing, and being with him. She particularly missed studying with him, since harry never spent time studying during the holidays. Neville was always a good study partner because he tried, too. Harry always wanted to just get the homework over with.

When Marigold wasn't having snowball fights, playing wizards chess with Ron, or hanging out with Harry, she spent her time studying. She spent a lot of time in front of the fire, in her usual spot, practicing magic and pouring over her books. Harry was content ignoring his books completely, but Marigold had a scholarship to maintain, so she had to stay on top of things, if not ahead.

She also spent a lot of time reading over _The Duelist's Guide_ , practicing late into the night. She still hadn't tried the wrist breaker hex, but then again, that didn't bother her too much. That spell sounded like something she wouldn't need for a long time. Hopefully, she would never need it.

In the hospital wing, she had asked Dumbledore about it and he had told her he wrote it down. It was his handwriting, but she couldn't shake the feeling he had lied when he said he created it. It wasn't the same feeling she got when Harry got the cloak; that had been an uneasy feeling. This was different; it was like the time she asked her dad a question he hadn't wanted to answer so he brushed her off with something she had wanted to hear. Why Dumbledore would do this over something so simple was beyond her; but then again, most things the Headmaster did were beyond her comprehension.

The day before term started, Marigold and Harry woke up early, expecting Neville to arrive at breakfast. Marigold had hardly slept the night before because she knew Neville would be returning to Hogwarts, and she was very excited. Sadly, they had woken up early for no reason. It wasn't until halfway through lunch that Harry got her attention.

Marigold looked up and saw Neville at the entryway, his bags at his side and his red and gold tie loose. Other students were pouring through the doors, saying their greetings. As Marigold raced over to hug Neville, she noticed Hermione talking with Ron, Dean, and Seamus.

"Hey, Mari— oomph!" Marigold cut him off with a huge hug.

"Welcome back, Neville," Harry said. Marigold let go of Neville, who was very red in the face.

"We've missed you!" she exclaimed.

"I missed you guys too! Hey, I ate on the train. So, if you guys are done, we can head up to the dorm and… talk."

Marigold and Harry exchanged excited glances; they were finally going to find out who Flamel was.

Marigold led the way up to the common room, Neville and Harry tagging along behind, lugging Neville's trunk and bags. When they got to the common room they found it too crowded to discuss Flamel. All the students who had returned on the train with Neville were laughing and telling stories about their holiday.

The trio trudged up to Harry's and Neville's dorm. Dean and Seamus had already thrown in their trunks, one of which had burst open all over the floor. Neville quickly stashed his own trunk next to his bed, while Harry and Marigold sat down on Harry's bed. The two waited as Neville rummaged through his trunk.

"Ah ha!" Neville finally exclaimed. "Here, came as a bit of a surprise, really."

Neville handed Harry a chocolate frog card. Marigold recognized Dumbledore's kind smile immediately. Harry turned the card over, and at the same time the two of them smacked themselves.

"How thick could we get?" Harry exclaimed, Marigold just groaned. "We read it on the train on coming here, listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_ '!"

"Alchemy?" Marigold asked, completely bewildered.

"I think it has something to do with gold or immortality or something," Neville piped up.

"Ah, well, now that we have something to go off of, we will be sure to find something!"

"If not, Hermione ought to know. After all, she always has her nose in a book," Harry said, handing the card back to Neville.

Neville set the card on his nightstand; the three of them were quiet. Marigold felt like a right fool for not remembering. Harry looked similarly miffed.

"So, anything interesting happen while I was on holiday?" Neville asked, plopping down on his bed.

Marigold turned to Harry, not sure what to say. Without a word, he grabbed his cloak out of the bottom of his trunk. Harry then explained the cloak, the mysterious sender (Marigold looked at the ground), and lastly, the mirror. Neville listened intently, gasping at the right times and everything. Marigold remained silent; Harry was doing a great job explaining everything, anyway.

"Right, so, quite a bit happened…" Neville said, once Harry had finished telling the story.

"Everything's fine now though," Harry said, a little too quickly, looking at Marigold.

"Yeah, back to normal," she answered, not returning his gaze.

"We will be spending this week learning the severing charm. A very tricky charm, and if preformed incorrectly, quite dangerous."

It was the first day back in classes, and Marigold already missed the holidays. Marigold and the boys were in their first hour of Charms class. Neville had apparently studied over the holidays because during previous hour Herbology, he'd won Gryffindor House five points for knowing the proper location to find aconite.

Marigold, on the other hand, found herself unable to concentrate during Herbology, and she wasn't faring well in Charms class either. Sure, she was taking notes on everything the professor said, but her heart wasn't in it. She knew she should be paying more attention, especially since she would probably have to go over this again with Neville and Harry later tonight. But for some reason, her mind kept going back Dumbledore's chocolate frog card.

She was ecstatic that they finally had the lead on Flamel, but she kept thinking about the other things on the card. Dumbledore had defeated a dark wizard forty-six years ago. How many dark wizards were out there? You-Know-Who wasn't the first, so why hadn't anyone been able to stop him before he killed Harry's parents? Wasn't there a place for bad witches and wizards to go? Who sent them there? Is it a specific job? What did wizards even do after school?

By the end of class her head was swimming with questions she didn't have answers to, a headache that made the room spin, and worst of all, incomplete notes. It didn't help that all through lunch Harry and Neville talked non-stop about Flamel, hardly engaging her in the conversation. And if she thought lunch was bad, it was nothing compared to History Of Magic.

It felt wrong; there she was in the middle of class, unable to concentrate because she was worried about her future. She never had to worry about her future, because first of all she was eleven, and secondly she was locked in a house for most of her life. But here she was, completely free, with her whole life ahead of her. She felt ill.

After class ended, she told the boys to go on without her. She must have looked pretty bad, because neither of them questioned it. Neville just took her books and gave her a worried smile. She figured Madam Pomfrey would have something for her headache, maybe even something to get rid of her worries.

As she walked down the hall, she wondered what Madam Pomfrey would give her. She still had ten minutes before class started; she doubted she would make it back in time. Not that it particularly mattered; Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't exactly the best class. She _had_ been teaching Harry, Neville, and herself the curriculum since the start of the year when they realized how bad a teacher Quirrell was.

As Marigold descended the last staircase, the castle seemed quiet with most of the students already in class. She walked into the hospital wing and noticed Madam Pomfrey stocking vials in a large cabinet. Madam Pomfrey turned around and saw Marigold standing there.

"Are you alright my dear?" she asked, bustling over to look at Marigold.

"I, well, I don't…" Marigold felt very silly now that she was here. Madam Pomfrey was looking at her expectedly, and Marigold could feel herself blushing. "Well, ma'am, during class I started wondering what I would end up doing after Hogwarts. And, well, I started feeling bad. My head started swimming, and I couldn't really breathe…"

"Ah, a might young for such a crisis. No matter, I have just the thing." Madam Pomfrey smiled and turned to the cabinet.

In the end, Madam Pomfrey gave her a rather large vial of orange and magenta swirly potion to take if she started worrying. She also told Marigold _not_ to worry so much; after all, Marigold had several years before she had to figure everything out.

Marigold was well on her way back to Defense Against the Dark Arts class when she heard footsteps rushing toward her. She turned around and saw Fred and George running toward her at full speed. Bewildered, she was about to ask them what was going on when they grabbed ahold of her hands and started dragging her with them.

"Run!" George panted.

"It's Filch!" Fred wheezed.

Marigold didn't need to know anything else. She ran with them, not daring to look over her shoulder. The three of them raced through the castle. The twins led her through several corridors and passageways that she had never seen before; it was exhilarating. As she ran, all her worries seemed to melt away.

The three of them finally stopped somewhere Marigold had never been before. They were all laughing and clutching their sides. Fred and George were trying to communicate through wheezes and hand gestures, but ultimately gave up, since neither of them could stop laughing.

"What did you guys even do?" Marigold asked once things had calmed down a little bit.

"Remember that blue foam we filled your room with at home?" George asked.

"Yeah? I countered with gnomes. The three of us hit it off after—don't tell me you used the foam on Filch?"

"Yeah, we have been perfecting the formula since then," Fred answered with a grin.

"Now we can make more, faster, and now the blue dye stains," George continued, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, wow, Filch is going to kill you two! And now you've gotten me involved. And to top everything else off, I've missed Defense class." She pretended to be irritated with the two of them, but she really wasn't.

"Come on, Marigold, we all know Quirrel isn't much of a teacher."

"Besides, now that Fred and I ran into you, I have an idea for another prank." George's eyes glinted. "Say, sis, recon the forbidden forest has gnomes?"

In the end, Fred and George decided that the forbidden forest did _not_ have gnomes, so the three of them decided to think up another prank for another time. Fred and George's free period was up so they left, and Marigold made her way back to the common room.

Marigold climbed through the portrait hole just as Harry and Neville were sitting down in their usual seats by the fire. She walked over and sat down with a sigh of relief. The bottle in her pocket swooshed, but she paid it no mind.

"How was class?" she asked. She reached out and grabbed her books back from Neville.

"Boring, Quirrell had us read a passage about a new spell. What was it, Harry, the smokescreen spell?" Neville asked, opening up his own books.

"Yeah, we have to explain how it can be useful in certain situations. It has to be a foot of parchment, too. Later on this week we'll be practicing it in class."

"Right, well, let's get as much done before dinner as we possibly can." Marigold sighed and opened up her own books.

Marigold spent the next week going through class and work in a daze. The potion Madam Pomfrey gave her made her sleepy and somewhat numb. She was able to get her work done again though. While Harry was out at Quidditch practice in the rain, Marigold and Neville talked inside about school and finals. They even had time to practice nonverbal spellwork again.

Things between Harry and Marigold were getting better, too. For that, Marigold was thankful. Although Harry was often tired from Quidditch, Marigold made sure he knew the course material. Unfortunately he didn't have the energy to work on nonverbal spellwork.

Everything was back to normal, until one night when Harry came stomping into the dormitory soaking wet and miserable. Marigold and Neville were talking and working on homework when Harry sank into the chair in front of the fire.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Neville asked, turning around to face him.

"Snape is refereeing the next Quidditch—"

"Don't play," Marigold said before he could finish.

"Aren't we playing Slytherin this time, too?" Neville squeaked.

"Harry, you could die! Don't—"

"I have to," Harry sighed. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

"Well then, what are we going to do?"

The three of them had worked on a plan well into the night, homework tossed aside and forgotten. As the match drew nearer, though, Marigold felt more and more uneasy. She could tell Harry was second-guessing the plan, and himself, but there was nothing more the three of them could do.

To make matters worse, the three of them kept running into Snape. It was as if he knew where they were or was following them. Potions class was getting more and more difficult to handle. Neville was reduced to tears when Snape yelled at him when his Wave Potion caused a bunch of books to topple over, which could have happened to anyone. Harry mused one night that Snape could possibly know they knew about Flamel. Neville thought the idea was ridiculous, but Marigold silently agreed. She had wondered before if Snape could read minds.

When the match finally arrived, Marigold and Neville wished Harry good luck and tried reassuring him that they had everything under control. When the two of them found a place in the stands, Marigold felt eerily calm. Neville, however, was bouncing all over the place.

For a few minutes the two of them just stood there while their classmates talked and cheered. It wasn't until Marigold noticed Dumbledore in the stands that she loosened her grip on her wand. With a sigh of relief she turned to Neville.

"Nev, look," she whispered, pointing to Dumbledore.

"Thank Merlin," Neville cried.

With Neville no loner bouncing, the stands went still. Seconds later they erupted as the Quidditch teams entered the field. Marigold tried to get Harry's attention but with everyone in the stands it was impossible. Snape stood at the center of the field, looking angrier and meaner than ever. Just as everyone kicked off, Neville yelped beside her.

"Oh hello there, Longbottom, Rosenberg," Malfoy said grinning at Crabbe and Goyle.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Marigold asked, hand gripping her wand.

"Wondering how long Potter will stay on his broom this time. Anyone want a bet?"

Neither Marigold nor Neville said anything; neither of them had taken their eyes off the game. Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him. Marigold was quite proud of her brother.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy asked a few minutes later. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

"Watch it, Malfoy, " Marigold warned. She was still watching the game, but her hand was twitching. She wouldn't stand for any more of this.

"Oh please, Rosenberg. You should be on the team, everyone feels sorry you even exist. You would complete the set."

In his attempt to lunge at Malfoy, Neville knocked Marigold into Crabbe and Goyle. The Quidditch game and Harry were temporarily forgotten as the five of them rolled around in the stands.

It wasn't until a couple of seventh years pulled them apart that they even noticed the match was over. Neville had a bloody nose, blood dripping down his robes. Malfoy looked quite disheveled; he would probably have several bruises. Crabbe and Goyle didn't seem too hurt, but Marigold's chest was hurting a lot.

Neville and Marigold were relieved to find that Harry was fine, and in good spirits when they found Gryffindor had won the match despite Snape giving out so many penalties.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle glared at the two of them then disappeared, following the rest of the Slytherins. Marigold and Neville decided to head back to the dormitory with the rest of the Gryffindors; Harry was safe now that the match was over.

Harry was taking longer to get to Gryffindor tower than expected. Marigold was starting to get nervous. A party was in full swing in the common room, but Marigold was still waiting for Harry outside the portrait hole.

The portrait hole opened up, causing Marigold to jump, and Neville climbed out. He had on fresh robes and a cloth on his nose. Marigold felt a surge of affection and hugged Neville really tight.

"What's this for?" Neville asked, his cloth muffling his words.

"For sticking up for me, silly."

"Oh, right, that." Neville sounded a bit embarrassed.

"Guys, guys! You won't believe this!" Marigold let go of Neville and turned around to see Harry running up to them.

Harry wouldn't tell them anything until they were in an empty classroom that they had made sure Peeves wasn't in. Harry was acting frantic, and it took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to tell them what had happened.

"So, I was putting my broom away in the shed when I saw a hooded figure enter the forbidden forest. I knew it was Snape, I could just tell, so I followed him. He was meeting up with Professor Quirrell."

"Why?" Neville asked.

"They were talking about Flamel," Harry answered in a loud whisper.

"What?" Marigold was stunned.

"They mentioned something called the Sorcerer's Stone. And Snape was threatening Quirrell, trying to force Quirrell to help him get the stone. I didn't hear more because I nearly fell off my broom."

"Hold on, you mean this stone, which has whatever to do with Flamel, is only safe as long as Quirrel can stand up to Snape?" Neville asked, all hope gone from his voice.

"We're all domed," Marigold said miserably.

(A/N: Please leave comments, even if its just complaining about how infrequently I post chapters. Love you guys! Tune in next time for dragons!)


	17. Congratulations Hagrid, You're a Mom

(A/N: Yay, another chapter is up. I hope you enjoy! Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Fortunately for everyone, Quirrell was braver than the trio expected. He was looking paler and thinner, but apparently holding his ground against Snape. Snape on the other hand was looking meaner than ever, which seemed like a good sign. After all, Marigold figured he would look less mean if he had gotten around Quirrell and snatched the stone.

Marigold and the boys kept looking in the library for Nicolas Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone, but they couldn't find anything at all. Harry was getting frustrated, and it was taking everything Marigold had to make sure he and Neville were studying.

Hermione kept reminding everyone who would listen that exams were creeping up. She kept color coding her notes and scribbling away deep into the night; Marigold didn't mind much, as she was doing the same thing, but the other girls were quite annoyed.

Ron was often overheard complaining about how Hermione wouldn't let up, though Marigold supposed that was a good thing since he never studied without her. Hermione didn't seem to mind his complaints anymore, though she would argue back sometimes. Marigold found it entertaining, watching the two of them study and do homework in the common room. However, not everyone found their loud study sessions as endearing as Marigold did.

Along with Hermione, the teachers seemed to be thinking of nothing but exams. Homework was piled on so thick that Marigold and Hermione weren't the only two with bags under their eyes. With all the homework, the Easter holidays weren't nearly as fun as the Christmas ones.

One night, with exams only ten weeks away, Marigold was up studying for Potions. She had her hair tied up with her wand, and her book, notes, and planner scattered around on her bed. She used to study like this back at the Burrow. However, the fond memories kept distracting her from memorizing the process of making the Wiggenweld potion.

She wasn't sure what time it was, but everyone was asleep; everyone but Hermione, of course. Marigold found it comforting hearing Hermione's quill scratching against her parchment. The two of them often stayed up like that for hours; that's why Marigold was surprised when she heard Hermione stop writing. Seconds later Marigold heard a voice outside her curtains.

"Marigold, are you awake?" Hermione asked in a hushed whisper.

"Yeah?" Marigold opened her curtains to see Hermione standing in her pajamas. "What's the matter?"

"I was wondering if…" Hermione trailed off. "I was wondering if you had the notes from Tuesdays Transfiguration lesson? Mine were… misplaced."

"Oh, yeah, of course…"

Marigold shuffled her pages around; she had a method to her madness, she promised. As she shuffled, she had an idea; well, Harry had mentioned that Hermione always had her nose in a book. Maybe, just maybe, Hermione knew about Flamel and the Stone.

"Oh, here you go," Marigold said, handing the notes to Hermione. "Say, Hermione, do you know anything about alchemy? I was looking in the library, but I couldn't find anything."

"Nothing comes to mind, but if I think of anything, I will absolutely let you know. Thank you for the notes, I will get them back as soon as I can."

Marigold had gone to bed shortly after her conversation with Hermione; but when she woke up she realized she was in trouble. She had overslept, and breakfast only had ten minutes left; that wasn't enough time to even get to the Great Hall, let alone eat. To make matters worse, it was Friday, so she had double Potions. The thought of being in a room with Snape for two hours without having food in her stomach was almost enough to make her skip class.

She reluctantly rolled herself out of bed, got dressed, and grabbed her supplies. She supposed she would just meet the boys in the dungeon before class. Her stomach didn't start growling until halfway down to the dungeons; it was a feeling she knew well, but hadn't experienced since she was with her dad.

Harry and Neville arrived in the dungeon fifteen minutes after Marigold did. It wasn't until they got closer that she noticed what was in Neville's hand. Neville had grabbed a muffin for her.

"Here you go," Neville said, handing her the muffin.

"Nev, you are the best." Marigold grabbed the muffin and started devouring it.

"We assumed you overslept when you didn't show up in the common room this morning," Harry said, watching her in amusement.

Marigold nodded, and crumbs fell from her chin and onto her books.

As soon as she had finished the muffin, the other students started arriving. Dean called her over, and the two of them talked about the Wiggenweld potion and how much they had memorized. They also theorized what would be on the exams; Snape had said he'd tell them by second hour today.

When class started, Marigold was miserable. For the entirety of first hour, Snape had them take new notes on several antidotes to common poisons, giving them new material to memorize. Marigold's hand was cramping by the time first hour ended and second hour started. But her hand didn't get a break, because for the whole hour, Snape explained what would be on the exam.

It would be a two-part exam, one practical and one written. He didn't go into specifics as to what would be on the written; he just told them to memorize everything, including what he would be teaching for the next several weeks. For the practical, they would have to brew a potion from memory, without notes or partners, using their own supplies. At that, Marigold got a bit nervous, seeing as she was running low on a few ingredients.

Worse still, the muffin Neville had brought her only lasted her until second hour. So all through class, she could hear her stomach rumbling, and so could Snape. Nearly every time her stomach made a noise, the professor would look at her, which made her very uncomfortable.

By the end of the period Marigold was anxious for lunch. As the students filed out of the room, she caught sight of two redheads standing to the side. Marigold told Harry and Neville to save her a seat at the lunch table, having the feeling that her conversation with the twins would take up her free period, then walked over to Fred and George.

"We have an idea," Fred said.

"Come with us." George grinned.

Marigold nodded, and the three of them made their way out of the dungeon and into an empty room. The twins wasted no time in explaining their plan, which Marigold found completely brilliant.

Her job was simple. Filch was usually out of his office during this hour, so she would keep an eye out to make sure he didn't return early. While she watched, Fred and George would sneak in and fill it to the brim with an orange goop they had concocted. By the time Filch got back, the goop would have formed itself around every item in the room as if the objects had been placed in orange jell-o.

For a time, everything was running smoothly. Marigold was standing at the end of the hall keeping a lookout for Filch. Fred and George were busying themselves in the office dumping as much goop as they could. They were three minutes into things when Marigold was startled by Mrs. Norris, who hissed and ran off to find Filch. As Marigold quickly made her way to the office, she heard running coming from down the hall.

Grabbing her wand from her robes, she burst into the office, startling Fred and George. Remembering a spell from _The Duelist's Guide_ , Marigold quickly twirled her wand around the twins and herself.

"Inaspectus!"

Suddenly, the three of them were matching their surroundings, like chameleons. They looked almost invisible, but if you squinted, you could make out their outlines.

Everyone instinctively froze where they stood as Filch burst into his office and, upon seeing all the orange goop, started screaming about detentions and tortuous punishments. Flailing his arms, he ran back out of the office. When the three of them could no longer hear Filch's screams, Marigold preformed the counter charm, and the three of them booked it. Fred and George lead the way, running this way and that, and when they finally stopped, they all burst into laughter.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Fred asked, through fits of giggles.

"Read it in a book once," Marigold answered through her gasping.

When the three of them finally calmed down, Fred and George had a conversation using just their eyes, Marigold had seen them do this before, but she was surprised when they finally turned to her.

"We have unanimously decided that you are always welcome when we prank someone," Fred said with a big smile.

"Also, you are very handy in a pinch. That was amazing what you did back there," George added.

"Thanks, I'm always down for pranking with you guys. I had a blast."

The three of them talked about other pranks the twins were planning, as well as the ones they had done in years previous. Before they knew it, it was time for lunch. They walked down to the Great Hall together, and Marigold said goodbye when they got to where Harry and Neville were sitting. Once Fred and George left, Marigold told Harry and Neville what they had just done. The two of them were impressed, if just a little bit jealous.

A few days after the prank with the twins, Harry, Marigold, and Neville were in the library on break, looking for Flamel. They were all a little surprised when Hermione came rushing over and sat a book down on the table.

"I don't know if it's what you were looking for, but I've had this book for a while."

Harry and Neville scrambled for the book while Marigold thanked Hermione. Hermione said as long as she got the book back, the three could look it over; she had more studying to do. Seconds after she disappeared, Harry found what they were looking for.

"Look at this!"

 _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._

 _There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover…_

"That's what Snape was talking about after the match!" Harry said excitedly.

"This stone must be what the dog is guarding. Flamel must have asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him," Marigold reasoned.

"No wonder Snape is after it." Neville shivered.

Marigold went to return the book to Hermione, and fervently thanked her. Hermione was glad to help, though she was confused as to why Marigold was so excited. When Marigold got back, she was surprised to see Hagrid talking to the boys in hushed whispers.

"Oh hi, Marigold," Hagrid said, noticing her. "I was just tellin' the boys 'ere to come an' see me later. An' teh stop blabbing about the you know what."

"Yeah, we'll be down," Marigold said cheerfully.

Hagrid shuffled off, and Marigold noticed he was trying to hide something.

"What was he hiding?" Neville asked.

"No idea," Harry said.

About an hour later the three of them walked down to Hagrid's hut. It was a clear, beautiful day, so they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. They knocked on the door, jumping when Hagrid opened it and quickly ushered them in.

It was boiling inside; there was a roaring fire even though it was such a nice day. Hagrid made them tea, which was welcome, and some sandwiches, which they politely refused.

"So, yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," Harry said. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Stone, other than Fluffy?"

"O' course I can't," Hagrid said frowning. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringtotts… I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

Marigold felt her hands go numb at the thought of the three headed dog. She remembered its teeth…

"Hagrid, we know Dumbledore trusts you. We know you know everything that happens around here," Marigold said, and Hagrid smiled. "We only want to know who else Dumbledore trusts to guard the stone, other than you."

Hagrid was quiet for a moment; he seemed to be thinking whether or not to tell them.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yer that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments. Even Dumbledore himself did somehin', o' course."

"Which teachers?" Neville asked.

"Snape?" Harry asked.

"Well, o' course! Yer not still on that are yeh?"

Marigold felt her heart sink; she knew Harry and Neville felt bad too. If Snape was one of the teachers protecting the stone, then he could probably get past the enchantments from the others. Except Quirrell's, apparently.

The four of them sat in silence, boiling in the heat of the hut. Marigold was sweating through her robes.

"Hagrid, do you think we could open a window?" Neville asked, Harry and Marigold nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, Neville, can't," Hagrid said, glancing at the fire. Marigold looked too, and she was surprised at what she saw.

"What is _that_?" Neville asked, craning his neck to get a better look.

"It' a Norwegian Ridgeback, I won it las' night," Hagrid was saying.

Marigold wasn't paying attention. She was already getting up and walking towards the fire. Kneeling down, she gazed underneath the kettle at the large, black egg.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," Marigold said, standing up.

But Hagrid wasn't listening, so the trio let themselves out of the hut and into the cool outdoors.

"What is Hagrid thinking? A Norwegian Ridgeback? This has to be illegal." Neville said, worried.

The three of them now had something else to worry about on top of the Sorcerer's Stone and exams. They worried for a week, going through classes and homework, practicing nonverbal magic late into the night. Marigold knew she would end up sleeping the summer away, _if_ she managed to make it through the end of the year.

Neville and Marigold were talking over breakfast about Herbology when Harry's owl Hedwig brought him a note. It was from Hagrid; apparently, the egg was hatching.

"We have to go, now," Harry insisted.

"Absolutely not! We have class and we will get in trouble, that's the last thing Hagrid needs. We don't want to bring any unwanted attention…"

"Marigold, hush!" Neville warned.

Malfoy was only a few feet away, and he had stopped to listen to them. Marigold sighed; she was the one bringing unwanted attention. How much had Malfoy heard?

The three of them were fidgety all throughout Herbology, and by the time they got out, they were running towards Hagrid's hut. When they got there, Hagrid hurriedly ushered them inside.

"It's nearly out," he said excitedly.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in the black shell, and something was very obviously moving inside. An odd clicking noise was coming from it. Marigold was very excited. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with baited breath.

All at once, there was a high-pitched scraping noise, and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped on the table. Marigold immediately understood why Charlie was in love with dragons. Its spiny wings were so much larger than its tiny jet body. It had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and wide orange eyes. It was beautiful.

It sneezed, and a couple sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he _beautiful_ ," Hagrid mumbled. He tried to pet the dragon's head, but it snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Hagrid," said Neville, who Marigold noticed was several feet away from the table. "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"

Hagrid was about to answer, when all the color suddenly drained from his face. He leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's wrong, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains. It's a kid an' he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Marigold and Harry bolted to the door; Marigold tripped on Neville and hit the floor.

"Sorry about that, Marigold," Neville apologized.

"That's okay, Nev. Harry, who was it?"

"Malfoy. It was Malfoy."

Over the next week the trio spent as much time as they could with Hagrid, desperately trying to convince him to get rid of the dragon, which Hagrid had named Norbert. They had traded looking for Flamel and the Stone for spending time with Hagrid, which would have been fun if they hadn't been worried sick.

All week, they had tried their best to steer clear of Malfoy, who continued to don a wicked grin whenever they were around.

Marigold had no idea what to do to try and convince Hagrid to get rid of baby Norbert. Harry and Neville were just as stumped. It wasn't until she got a letter from Charlie that she came up with a brilliant idea.

"Hagrid, we can give Norbert to Charlie Weasley," Marigold said, looking at the already three-foot dragon. "He takes care of dragons in Romania, I'm sure he would be happy to have Norbert."

It took nearly all afternoon and several promises of letters from Charlie that Marigold hoped she could keep, but Hagrid finally agreed to let Charlie take Norbert. All that was left was for Marigold to send Charlie an owl.

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _So here's the thing_ _…_

 _So what happened was this_ _…_

 _It's a long story?_

 _Hagrid has a dragon! It's a Norwegian Ridgeback and he can't keep it because it's obviously illegal. I was wondering if you could take it off his hands since you work on a reserve and all. I know it's asking a lot, but I hope you can help._

 _Love,_

 _Marigold_

Two mornings after Marigold sent the letter, Charlie's owl came swooping into the Great Hall, flopping onto the table in exhaustion. The trio put their heads together to read the note.

 _Dear Marigold,_

 _I will be happy to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it wont be easy getting him here. I have a few friends, good people, who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they can't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

 _Could you get the Ridgeback up to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

 _I'm sorry I can't come myself. I would have loved to see you again, but my absence would be surely missed. Send me an answer as soon as possible._

 _Love,_

 _Charlie_

"We've got the invisibility cloak," Harry said. "It shouldn't be too hard, I think the cloak is big enough for two of us and Norbert."

"There is a charm in the _Duelists Guide_ I can use," Marigold said, remembering her escapades with the twins. "The two of you can go under the cloak," she said cheerfully. "This might just work."

"Midnight on Saturday!" Neville said, a little too loudly.

The three of them quickly looked around. Malfoy was sitting a little ways off, but he didn't seem to have heard. They had been lucky.

Saturday night arrived, and the three of them met in the common room at eleven. Marigold had been practicing the disillusionment charm ever since she tried it with the twins, and she had it down very well. It was even stronger when she cast it non-verbally. As Harry and Neville hid under the cloak, Marigold twirled her wand around herself.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"You don't," Neville said from under the cloak.

"Good, then it's working."

The three of them made their way out of the tower, then out of the castle itself. They ran as quickly as they could to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid had Norbert packed up in a crate and ready to go, and was saying his goodbyes when they got there. They would have felt bad for Hagrid, but he was eating up all of their time, and they were already stressed about what they had to do.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey. An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

A loud ripping sound came from the crate and Marigold was sure the teddy bear had lost it's stuffing.

"Bye-bye, Norbert," Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Neville covered themselves and the crate with the cloak. "Mummy will never forget you!"

Marigold took her wand out and lead the way as they made their way back to the castle. She had to keep reminding the boys to keep quiet because they kept panting and groaning under the weight of the dragon.

When they got in the castle they were astonished to see that Professor McGonagall, standing in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Snape will hear of this, Malfoy. Wandering around at night, how dare you!"

"But Professor, I heard Harry saying something about midnight tonight! And Hagrid has a dragon!" Malfoy pleaded.

"What utter nonsense, how dare you tell such lies?"

The two of them disappeared into the castle and the trio let out a sigh of relief. After a few minutes, when they were sure Professor McGonagall wasn't going to return, they continued on their way.

How they managed to get to the Astronomy tower without getting caught, they would never know. When they got outside, Harry and Neville threw off the cloak and started laughing. Marigold got rid of her disillusionment charm and joined them.

"Malfoy got detention! Could this night get any better?" Harry laughed.

They tried to keep the sound down as they waited. Ten minutes went by with the three of them looking up at the sky. Suddenly, four broomsticks came swooping in, no longer clouded in darkness.

Charlie's friends were very fun, and chatted with the trio a little bit before getting ready to go. The four of them had rigged a harness so they could suspend Norbert safely. Neville and Marigold helped strap Norbert in, then they all said their goodbyes.

At last, Norbert was going… going… _gone_.  
Elated that Norbert was finally gone, they slipped back down the spiral staircase. No more dragon, Malfoy had detention, what could spoil their happiness?

The answer was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filches face suddenly loomed out of the darkness, scaring them all.

"Well, well, well," he whispered. "We _are_ in trouble."

It was then that they realized that, in their excitement, they had left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower, and that Marigold had forgotten her charm.

(A/N: Tune in next time for the Forbidden Forest, unicorns, centaurs, and detention. Please leave reviews, I love hearing from you!)


	18. Deadly Detention

(A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this, guys. I had surgery and after that it took a long time to get back into the groove of things. But I'm finally back! Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Filch was practically skipping as he marched them through the corridors of the school and straight into Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor. The three of them sat and waited without so much as a word between them. Neville was crying, Harry looked in shock, and Marigold was somewhere in the middle. She was doing her best to think of a way to lie through the situation, but nothing was coming to mind.

How could they have been so stupid? Forgetting the cloak and disillusionment charm out of excitement? There was no excuse that could get them out of trouble; McGonagall was going to be furious. There was nothing they could do. They had been out of bed and roaming around the school. No, if they had simply been roaming around, they might have been in less trouble… but the three of them had been in the astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. That definitely made things worse. Add Norbert into the mix, and they might get expelled.

Marigold started shaking violently. If she were expelled, she would have no place to go. Surely the Weasleys wouldn't take her back, and her father _absolutely_ wouldn't. She'd be all alone. What happened when someone was expelled from Hogwarts? Would she still be allowed magic?

Professor McGonagall arrived looking positively murderous. She looked over the three of them with an icy stare so cold that Marigold could feel a collective shiver run down all their backs.

"Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. _Explain yourselves_." Her words were even, but quiet.

Neville hiccupped in response. None of them wanted to get Hagrid in trouble, nor Charlie's friends. Nobody said a word. Marigold hardly breathed.

"I'm disgusted. You, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. As for you, Neville, I thought you would be better than this. And Marigold, this is how you choose to repay the kindness of this institution? All three of you will receive detentions. Nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Especially these days, it's very dangerous. Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

Marigold felt McGonagall's words go through her as if a ghost had phased through her body. Chilled. Neville stopped crying.

Harry tried to protest. " _Fifty?_ " he gasped.

"Fifty points _each_ ," McGonagall said, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

Marigold couldn't remember how the conversation with McGonagall ended, or how she got back to her dormitory. All she knew was that they had lost Gryffindor its shot at winning the house cup. How could they possibly hope to fix this?

She didn't sleep. She didn't cry. She just laid in bed, dreading the morning when the rest of Gryffindor would find out what they had done.

The morning started off in confusion, confusion that soon turned into rage as the story spread. Harry took most of the blame; after all, everyone knew Harry Potter, famous Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived had lost everyone a hundred and fifty points, him and a couple other stupid first years.

Marigold felt awful, and even though Harry took most of the blame, Marigold and Neville were still caught in the cross hairs. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined Gryffindor in its fury. Everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup.

Harry tried to resign from Quidditch; luckily, Wood wouldn't have any of it. Unfortunately, everyone on the team had ostracized Harry. The twins were no longer talking to Marigold, and when Fae started bullying Marigold again, she felt like she deserved it.

It had been three days. Neville hadn't said a word since, Harry wasn't sleeping, and Marigold hadn't eaten anything at all. According to Harry, Neville cried himself to sleep every night, and Marigold couldn't blame him. The trio was miserable.

It wasn't until Marigold started having fainting spells a few days later that Neville started talking, but only to tell her to eat.

The three of them kept to themselves more than before. Marigold didn't mention how rough things were getting with Fae, and the boys were too miserable to notice that she had bruises from being tripped down the stairs.

About a week before exams were due to start, Harry came rushing over to Neville and Marigold, who had their heads ducked in the corner of the library.

"Guys, you'll never guess what happened on my way over here."

"What?" Marigold asked.

"I heard Quirrel and Snape talking in an empty classroom. I think Quirrell finally gave up how to break the Anti-Dark Force spell."

"There's still Fluffy," Marigold said hopefully.

"Maybe Snape's already found out how to get past him. Look, I think I have—"

"No." Neville's voice was scratchy from having not been used the past few days. "No plans. If we do anything, we'll get expelled."

"We should go to Dumbledore." Marigold sighed.

"We can't, we don't have any proof. And even though you and Dumbledore are all buddy-buddy, that doesn't mean we can prove what's going on."

"We aren't buddy-buddy, and we can't do this ourselves anymore. We've done enough."

Harry didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue any further. Neville went back to not talking.

The following morning, Neville, Harry and Marigold received notes at the breakfast table. They were all the same. Their detention was tonight at eleven o'clock; they had to meet Filch at the entrance hall. All three of them had forgotten they had detention in the aftermath of the points they had lost.

At eleven o'clock, the three of them made their way down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there, and so was Malfoy, looking as miserable as the three of them. In the wake of everything, Marigold had forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, as well. Her spirits lifted ever so slightly.

"Follow me," Filch said, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you?" He leered over them with a wicked grin as they walked. "Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers, if you ask me… It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out… hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days. I've got the chains still in my office; keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed… Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched across the dark grounds. They were all quiet, wondering what their punishment would be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be so happy.

As they walked, Marigold remembered punishments her father had come up with over the years; he had gotten really creative after her mother had left. Marigold absentmindedly fumbled with her necklace, still wearing it for who knew what reason.

The moon was bright, but the clouds kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, they could see Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

The trio exchanged somewhat relieved looks; if they were going to be working with Hagrid, it wouldn't be so bad. But Filch put an end to that pretty quick.

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, it's into the forest you're going, and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

Neville and Malfoy froze.

"The forest?" Malfoy repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there, there's all sorts of things in there… werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched at the sleeve Harry's robe and made a choking noise. Harry mumbled something reassuring to Neville, but he didn't look convinced himself.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" Filch cackled. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, trusty Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin wiatin' fer half an hour already. All right there, Neville, Harry, Marigold?"

"You shouldn't be to friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch said coldly. "They're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" Hagrid said, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," Filch said. "For what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and headed back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

"I'm not going in that forest," Malfoy said, turning to Hagrid, a note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," Hagrid said fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff! It's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd—"

"— tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but dropped his gaze.

"Right then. Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

They followed Hagrid to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," Hagrid said. "See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood, that is. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" Malfoy asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang. An' keep ter the path. Right, now, were gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," Malfoy said quickly, gazing at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," Hagrid said. "So me, Harry and Marigold'll go one way, an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now— that's it— an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh. So, be careful, let's go"

The forest was black and silent. Marigold remembered a story she had once read about a hero getting lost in a spooky forest. Looking at the trees as they swayed in a breeze she could not feel, Marigold felt a shiver creep down her spine. A little way into it they reached a fork in the path, Marigold waved in encouragement to Neville as he disappeared with Malfoy as they veered to the left. Harry, Hagrid, and herself took the right path.

They walked in silence, eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood. Marigold was worried about Neville; if Malfoy did anything to hurt or scare her friend… she might just end up with more detentions here in the woods with Hagrid.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked, out of the blue.

"Not fast enough. It's not very easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Somewhere nearby Marigold could hear the soft trickling of water; there must be a stream close. Squinting to find the stream, Marigold nearly stepped in a small puddle of blood. Harry saved her last second by grabbing her hand.

"It can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt," Hagrid was saying, "an' then we'll be able ter— GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

It was sudden, but Hagrid seized Marigold and Harry like dolls and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby, like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," Hagrid said grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Marigold was worrying about Neville again; whatever had Hagrid spooked couldn't be good for him or Malfoy. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yourself, I'm armed!"

Into the clearing came a creature Marigold had only read about. To the waist, it was a man with red hair and a beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Marigold and Harry's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," Hagrid said in relief, walking forward to shake the centaur's hand. "How are yeh?"

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," Ronan said. He had a deep sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan. There's summat bad loose in the forest. This is Harry Potter and Marigold Rosenberg, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"Nice to meet you," Marigold squeaked, then blushed in the darkness.

"Good evening. Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"A bit," Marigold said, cutting off Harry's stammering.

"Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

Marigold looked up, effectively tuning out the conversation. It took her a moment to discern which planet was Mars. She only had astrology once a week, but over the course of the year, she had grown accustom to looking up at the sky.

They were so unlike the ones on her ceiling when she lived with her father. And though she couldn't exactly say she knew what the stars and planets were supposed to look like, it seemed that Ronan was right. Mars was shining just a bit brighter than she remembered.

When she looked back at the clearing she noticed another centaur had appeared. Hagrid tried asking about the unicorn, but this new centaur, Bane, only repeated what Ronan had said about Mars. The three of them said goodbye to the centaurs, and left the clearing.

"Never," Hagrid said irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anthin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many centaurs in the forest, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Oh, a fair few. Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if I ever want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs… they know things… jus' don' let on much."

"Do you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" Harry asked.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns— never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Marigold noticed that Harry kept looking over his shoulder. Marigold had to fight the urge to do the same thing; she had the suspicious feeling they were being watched. She just hoped that Hagrid wouldn't need that big crossbow. They had just passed a bend in the path when her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks! Neville, trouble!" The words came out of her mouth in a twisted screech.

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They herd him crashing away through the undergrowth. Marigold stood looking at where the red sparks hung in the sky, unable to look away. It wasn't long before they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

At some point, Marigold had grabbed her wand from her robes. It wasn't until she realized she had zoned out that she snapped out of it. Harry was standing beside her, unable to look away from where Hagrid had disappeared. She let him be. Instead, she kept a close look out for anything that moved near them, not completely without a plan, but unsure if she could keep the two of them safe if someone… something… other than Hagrid showed up.

The trees looked bigger without Hagrid there. The forest seemed louder, or maybe it was their senses beginning to heighten. The minutes passed by, Marigold was beginning to sweat. Where were they?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were following close behind. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had snuck up behind Neville and grabbed him, as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changing groups. Neville, you stay here with me an' Marigold. Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. He'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

Marigold watched as Harry and Malfoy disappeared with Fang. Neville was sniffing and shaking beside her. She wordlessly grabbed his hand in hers; it was very cold, but he stopped shaking.

"Hagrid, do you think that was a good idea?" Marigold asked, looking up at him. "I mean, Harry and Malfoy could really get into it."

"Didn' 'have much o' a choice," he sighed.

The three of them went back to walking; the breeze had picked up, and above them the trees were swaying. It seemed to get colder as they walked. Every time a tree branch snapped, Neville would squeeze her hand tight and she would squeeze him back in reassurance.

They didn't see any sign of the unicorn, or it's blood, but they kept walking. They didn't see signs of anything else in the forest either, and Marigold was perfectly fine with that. They walked for a long time, following Hagrid through the forest.

Everything was quiet for the longest time; so when they heard screaming, everyone froze. It was coming from the direction that Harry and Malfoy had gone. Without any words, the three of them raced off towards the commotion. As they got closer, they were able to hear Fang's frantic barking as well.

They crashed through the clearing and nearly ran into Malfoy. Hagrid nearly tripped over Fang. Malfoy backed up so fast he tripped and landed hard on his butt.

"Where is Harry?" Marigold demanded.

Malfoy didn't answer. Hagrid was trying to calm Fang, who was trying to jump in his arms. Neville was squeezing her hand so hard she could barely feel her fingers. Malfoy was trying to get up, but his robe kept getting stuck on tree roots, making him stumble more.

"Malfoy!" Marigold shouted.

"I don't know… something was wrong. We-we found the unicorn over that way." He pointed the other direction.

"Stay here with Hagrid!" Marigold told Neville, dropping his hand.

She ran off in the direction Malfoy had pointed. She knew it was stupid, but Harry was all-alone in the forest and Malfoy had said something was wrong. Her heart was pounding and she was sacred, but Harry could be hurt.

She ran into a clearing and froze in her tracks. Harry was fine, sitting on the back of a palomino centaur. A little dirty, sure, but he was fine!

"Harry!" She meant to call out, but she was all out of breath, so his name came out like a desperate whisper.

"Marigold? Hey, I'm okay."

Harry got off the centaur and walked over to her. By the time he got there, they heard Hagrid and the others running toward them. Hagrid rushed up, his face red and breathing hard.

"The unicorn's dead, Hagrid. It's in that clearing back there," Harry said, pointing behind him.

"This is where I leave you," the centaur said as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry nodded his thanks.

"Good luck, Harry Potter. The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." The centaur turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest.

"What happened, Harry?" Neville asked.

"I'll tell you later," he answered, eyeing Malfoy with a look of disdain.

By the time they got out of the forest, said their goodbyes to Hagrid at the entrance to the castle, and made their way to the common room, it was nearly three in the morning. Marigold could tell by the look on Harry's face that they probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight. They made their way to their chairs by the fireplace and warmed their frozen fingers and toes.

Harry wasn't able to sit still; he paced back and forth while they warmed themselves. Marigold realized that Harry's shivering wasn't from the cold. Marigold and Neville waited in silence for Harry to start speaking.

"When we found the unicorn, something was… _feeding_ on it. It charged at me, and my scar… I don't know, but my scar started hurting. I don't know what happened to the hooded creature, but suddenly there was a centaur standing over me. His name was Firenze… he told me about unicorn blood… apparently it can keep you from dying. Firenze thinks it was Voldemort."

Neville whimpered at the name. Marigold felt chills down her spine. The idea of You-Know-Who being so close wasn't a pleasant one. Harry kept pacing and shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort's waiting in the forest… and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich…"

"Please stop saying that name!" Neville shuddered.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so… Bane was furious… he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen… they must show that Voldemort's coming back. Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me… I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Harry, please!" Neville begged.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off… Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

"Harry," Marigold said after awhile, "I think you're forgetting something."

"What would that be, Marigold?"

"Dumbledore. I mean, he _is_ a fantastic wizard."

"That's right!" Neville piped in. "Gran always said that Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of."

"And, I mean, we have all the other teachers, too. Who would be dumb enough to attack Hogwarts? Especially with McGonagall, I know _I'm_ scared of her!" Marigold insisted.

Marigold could tell she had gotten through to Harry, because he finally stopped pacing and sat down.

"She _is_ pretty scary isn't she?"

The three of them looked at each other and started laughing. It was a little hysterical, but with what they had gone through, hysterical was acceptable. The sky had turned light by the time they stopped talking. Marigold climbed into bed exhausted and sore, happy that the whole ordeal was over.

(A/N: Tune in next time for Exams, Fluffy, and Trap Doors! Please review!)


	19. It's All Hazardous

(A/N: Long chapter this time guys! Sorry it took so long to post. It had to go through editing. Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

In the few days that lead up to exam week, Marigold focused solely on classwork. She poured over her notes and books late into the night. She spent all her free time making sure that she could cast all her spells. She wasn't sure if she was studying because she was scared of losing her scholarship, or if she was doing it to distract herself from what Harry had told her. If she actually thought about it long enough, she would say it was a bit of both.

She was eating again, and Neville was back to talking. Unfortunately, Harry didn't look like he was sleeping. He had bags under his eyes and kept nodding off during classes. The last time she saw him even remotely happy was the morning after detention when he told her and Neville that his dad's cloak had been on his bed.

Fae hadn't let up, either. Marigold's notes kept disappearing and she kept finding herself at the bottom of the stairs when she had, moments before, been at the top. She didn't bother Neville or Harry about Fae though; they had other things to worry about.

The exams were split up between a practical and a written, and the first years would be split up with two classes taking the practical and the other two taking the written. The day before they started, Marigold finally felt confident enough about her practical abilities that she went to bed early.

It was swelteringly hot in the large classroom where first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws wrote their Herbology papers. They had been given special quills that had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating charm. Marigold was explaining how to dispose of spiky bushes using the fire-making spell when a loud screeching sound came from a few desks over.

Everyone looked up from their papers as Professor Sprout rushed over to a Ravenclaw who was staring in horror at the screaming quill in his hands. The Professor ripped the exam away from the student while he tried to protest. Eventually the screaming stopped and Marigold went back to her paper.

When Marigold finally finished, it was nearly lunchtime. Harry, Marigold, and Neville walked down to the Black Lake where the air was fresh and cool. They all pondered how or why a Ravenclaw would cheat.

The Charms written exam was much less eventful. Marigold was listing off the seven classifications of spells and how they are used and giving four examples when she noticed that due to how hot it was, her hand was smearing some of the ink on her paper. She had to rewrite nearly _half_ of her answers!

Since she had to fix everything, she was one of the last students out of the exam hall. Her hand was so cramped that trying to eat her dinner was an ordeal. After dinner, the three of them studied for the practical exams tomorrow. Neville was worried about the Charms practical, especially since he forgot three classifications of spells on the written.

Marigold assured him that he would be fine. But three out of the seven definitely wasn't good. Harry kept staring off into space while they studied. Marigold knew he was thinking about the forest and You-Know-Who, but she didn't say anything to him. Mostly because she didn't know what to say, but also because she had nearly convinced herself that things were going to be okay.

The next day, the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs were waiting outside the greenhouse for the Herbology practical. Everyone was milling about waiting for their name to be called. Professors Snape and McGonagall were milling about the students making sure everyone behaved, and that the students who had already taken their exam went back inside and didn't tell anyone what the test was.

Marigold and Harry were watching Snape when a loud explosion turned everyone's attention to the greenhouse. Seconds later Professor Sprout crashed through the door, followed by Seamus Finnigan and a ton of black smoke. Dean Thomas started cackling so much he fell over; Professor McGonagall glared at him as she rushed into the Greenhouse to clear things up.

Professor McGonagall was in the greenhouse for a few minutes; in that time, Dean had managed to calm down just enough to stand up again. Snape was on double patrol, looking rather put out now that he was alone with a bunch of first years.

Eventually Neville was called; after a few minutes he came out beaming. He looked very pleased with himself as he waved to Marigold and Harry.

Marigold went next. Professor Sprout instructed her to separate large pink seedpods from a puffapod using the severing charm. It took two tries, but she eventually got all the beans from the seedpods. After that, the Professor had her set some dried nettles on fire using the fire-making spell. Since Marigold had already done this so many times, it only took one try. After a few more tasks, Marigold was sent on her way.

After the Herbology practical, they had the Charms practical. Professor Flitwick called them in one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across his desk. They also had to use _lumos_ and _nox_ to light and extinguish their wands. It was a very short practical.

The trio had a long time before dinner, and they spent that time studying. Well, Marigold and Neville studied; Harry's insomnia finally caught up to him, and he passed out halfway through the cure for boils.

Snape was notorious for his difficult exams. The older the student, the more freaked out they would be while studying for his class; except the seventh years, who looked so accepting of their fate. Accepting and glassy-eyed.

Sure enough, as the Gryffindors and Slytherins marched into the stuffy exam room the next day, they finally realized what they were getting themselves into. Marigold found her seat and flipped through the parchment pages on her desk; there were nine pages. _Nine_!

Several students started crying. Marigold was pleased to see that Malfoy looked extremely nervous. With a sigh at the inevitable, Marigold rolled up her sleeves and got to work, only occasionally looking up to glare at Professor Snape, who was watching over all of them.

 _List the ten types of Cauldrons and what they are used for._

 _List the types of phial. Which have we used in class?_

 _List the twelve uses of dragon's blood._

 _What is the Wiggenweld Potion used for? How is it brewed?_

The questions went on and on. Marigold lost track of how much time had gone by, of how many pages she had written or had to go; she wasn't even sure if she was writing in English or if the words had become gibberish.

She left the exam hall feeling glassy eyed and empty. To make matters worse, she knew the Potions practical was after lunch.

She didn't know how, but the practical was worse. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that Snape kept breathing down everyone's necks as they tried to remember how to brew a forgetfulness potion, or if it was that she was so used to Dean brewing the potion with her, or if she was just so sick of being in hot, stuffy rooms. She kept wondering when she drank water last.

Stir three times clockwise: did she even have water at lunch? Leave to brew for forty-seven and a half minutes: had the dungeon classroom ever been this hot? Add ingredients to the mortar: was the room swaying? Add two pinches of the powder to the cauldron: could Snape just _shove off?_

When she finally finished the potion and handed it in to Snape, she felt like she was going to collapse. She ate dinner hurriedly, and passed out in the common room. She didn't wake up until Neville shook her awake at eleven thirty to remind her of the Astronomy exam.

She didn't remember even taking the Astronomy exam.

She woke up drooling into her pillow Thursday morning.

The Transfiguration paper was just two questions. _What is the transformation formula?_ And _Explain Gamps law of elemental transfiguration and why it is important._ If she got anything wrong, it would ruin her grade. Marigold answered the questions as best she could, then went over them three times, adding things she had forgotten.

Similar to the written, the Transfiguration practical was only one task. Professor McGonagall called them in one by one to turn a mouse into a snuffbox. Points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers or squeaked. It took Marigold a few tries for her mouse to turn at all; but when it did, it was a very nice snuffbox, so she left feeling proud of herself.

The last day, all they had left was History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts, both written exams. They had to answer many questions in History of Magic that had never been covered in class but had been in the book; Marigold chewed on her necklace so much that she wasn't sure whether her teeth were going to crack or if the chain would snap first.

For Defense class, they had to discuss gnomes, doxies, imps, gargoyles, and hags, explaining where they were found and what to do if encountered. Marigold thought bitterly that Fae would get excellent marks, especially since she had to have done research for all her evil puns.

Exams finally ended; and for the first time all year, Marigold slept in so late that she missed breakfast Saturday morning. She woke up feeling relieved and refreshed. She met Harry and Neville in the common room; Harry had grabbed her an apple and a muffin.

The three of them made their way down to the Black lake to sit underneath a tree, and watched as the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan tickled the tentacles of the Giant Squid. Marigold and Neville laughed as one of the tentacles nearly knocked Lee over, but Harry stayed silent.

"Aw, lighten up, Harry," Marigold said, punching his shoulder. "We have a week before we find out the exam results. There's no reason to worry yet."

But Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I whish I knew what it _means_!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting—it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"You could go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey could help," Neville suggested.

"I'm not ill," Harry said. "I think it's a warning… it means danger's coming."

"Neville's right, Harry. Relax, the Stone is going to be okay as long as Dumbledore is here. And it's not like we have any proof that Snape is doing anything wrong."

"I just feel like I'm forgetting something," Harry sighed, not looking at all convinced.

"That's probably just anxiety from exams," Neville piped up.

Harry jumped up in response. Marigold and Neville exchanged glances.

"I've just thought of something," Harry said. He had turned white. "We've got to go see Hagrid, now!"

"Hagrid? Why?" Neville asked, bewildered.

Marigold shared Neville's confusion, but followed Harry up the grassy slope anyway. Whatever it was, it seemed important; and how could she argue when Harry looked so determined?

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," Harry said, nearly tripping over his robes in his rush, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have a dragon egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think?"

"What are you getting at, Harry?" Marigold asked. But she saw Harry's point; it _was_ a bit odd.

Harry didn't answer; he was much too preoccupied with sprinting across the grounds and trying not to trip over his robes. Neville was having a hard time keeping up, having tripped over his own robes several times already.

When they got to his hut, they found Hagrid outside, sitting in an armchair. His trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno, never saw his face."

Marigold was quickly catching on.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head— that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid?" Marigold asked. "Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," Hagrid said, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was Gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after… so I told him… an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon… an' then… I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. Let's see… yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg and we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home… so I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…"

"And did he—did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Well, yeah, how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep—"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. Harry jumped up and bolted for the castle.

"I shouldn'ta told you that! Forget I—Hey, where're yeh goin'?"

Marigold didn't answer, but she grabbed Neville's hand and they ran to catch up with Harry. The three of them ran until they came to a halt in the entrance hall.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry panted. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak. It must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office, Marigold?"

"Harry, slow down, calm down! I'll take us to Dumbledore, but you have—"

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We were just on our way to Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Professor." Marigold answered, dropping Neville's hand.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, raising an eyebrow at Marigold. "This wouldn't have anything to do with why Mr. Longbottom is covered in grass, would it?"

"Well, er—no? It's sort of secret," Harry said.

Marigold nearly groaned. Professor McGonagall would definitely know something was up.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone? _Now_?" Harry said frantically.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time—"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," Harry said, and had Marigold known what he would say next she surly would have stopped him. "Professor, it's about the Sorcerer's Stone!"

Professor McGonagall had obviously not been expecting Harry to mention the Stone. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up. Marigold was glaring at Harry, but he didn't seem to notice. Neville was looking at everyone in turn, a look of befuddlement on his face.

"How do you know—?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think—we think—know that Sn—someone is going to try and steal the Stone. We've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed the three of them with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor—"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"Harry," Marigold said, once she was sure the professor was out of earshot. "How could—"

"It's tonight," Harry said, cutting her off. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note. I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore shows up."

"What do we—"

Neville gasped, and Marigold and Harry wheeled around.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him; well, Neville was gaping, too.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were—"

"You might want to be more careful," Snape said, cutting Harry off. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Marigold glared as Harry flushed beside her. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter… any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Once out on the stone steps, Harry turned to her and Neville.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape, wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves. Neville, you will do that."

"Why me?"

"You could say you got lost and needed help."

"Oh, sure."

"We'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told her. "Come on."

Unfortunately, Harry's plan didn't work out so well. He and Marigold had just reached the door that separated Fluffy from the rest of the school when Professor McGonagall showed up and completely lost her composure. She sent them back to the common room with the very real threat of losing more points, and possibly expulsion.

The two of them sat, wondering how Neville was doing with Snape.

It was much later when Neville climbed through the portrait hole.

"I'm so sorry you guys, but on my way to the staff room I got lost, for real," he moaned, flopping down next to them on the couches. "I only just figured out how to get back."

"Oh, Nev."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

He was pale and his eyes were glittering. He looked positively mad.

"I'm going out tonight and I'm going to try and get the Stone first."

"What? Are you mad? You'll get expelled!" Neville exclaimed.

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, don't you see? Do you think he'll leave your Gran alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup, Neville? Marigold, where would you even go?

"If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there. It's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

"You're right, Harry," Neville said in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"That's all well and good, Harry. But the cloak can barely fit the two of you, what will I do?" Marigold asked.

"What? You—Neville?"

"Oh please, Harry. You didn't think you would be going alone now did you? Oh no, we're going," Marigold said.

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Then we better not get caught," Marigold said.

After dinner, Marigold went up to her dorm and rummaged through her trunk. She grabbed the potion that Madam Pomfrey gave her after the incident with the troll, hoping she wouldn't need it.

She met the boys down in the common room, but sat apart from them. They were all sitting in separate corners of the room, pouring over any notes they had, desperate for anything that could help them against Snape. Neville had finally stopped shaking, but the three of them felt equally uneasy.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

Once the last person had left, Harry ran up to grab his dad's cloak.

When he got back, he and Neville put it over themselves, disappearing before Marigold's eyes. Marigold twirled her wand around herself, casting the disillusionment charm. She felt a calm fall over her as the charm made her invisible. She was so terrified that she felt eerily accepting of what was to come; she was about to face the three-headed dog that had plagued her sleep for so long.

Nothing got in their way as they made it out of the common room. Nothing bothered them as they made their way through the castle. It was almost as if Hogwarts was keeping their path clear, helping them, as if it anticipated how important their mission was. When they were finally standing outside the third floor corridor, the reality of what they were doing sunk in. Seeing the door ajar confirmed that Snape had already been there.

"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, nearly giving Marigold a heart attack in the quiet of the castle. "If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be an idiot, Harry Potter."

"We're coming," Neville agreed.

Harry pushed the door open. As it creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. Marigold felt all the hair on her body stand up. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their directions, even through it couldn't see them.

"What's that at its feet?" Neville whispered.

"Looks like a harp. Snape must have left it there."

"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry said. "Luckily Hagrid gave me the perfect gift for Christmas."

Marigold heard notes coming from nowhere as Harry played the flute under the cloak. It wasn't really music, but from the first note, the dog's eyes began to droop. Slowly, very slowly, the beast began to fall asleep, until finally, it slumped to the ground and started snoring.

"Keep playing," Neville urged as he lifted the cloak.

Marigold reversed her spell and helped Neville with the trapdoor. They tried to keep it quiet, but the door swung open and crashed to the floor. The dog stirred, but Harry kept playing. The opening was dark; Marigold felt around, looking for a ladder or another way down. She didn't find one.

"We'll just have to drop," Marigold said. "I'll go, then you, Nev. Harry, keep playing."

Harry looked like he wanted to protest, but with a gulp, Marigold jumped, not giving him the chance. Cold, damp air rushed past her as she fell. Her hair, which she had forgotten to tie up, swirled around her as she fell down, down, down—

Until she wasn't falling anymore. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, she landed on something soft. She sat up and felt around, unable to see in the dark. It felt as though she was sitting on some sort of plant.

"It's okay!" she called up to the light of the trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Neville landed next to her a few seconds later. Marigold heard the music stop, there was a loud bark, then Harry was there.

"Don't you ever do that again, Marigold!" he gasped.

"You know, Harry, I don't think I'll have the opportunity."

"Um, guys?" Neville said frantically.

While they had been talking, the plant had managed to twist snakelike tendrils all around their bodies without them noticing. Marigold and Harry immediately started struggling against the plant, but Neville remained uncharacteristically clam.

"Stop! I know what this is—it's Devils Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it is, thanks Neville!" Harry said sarcastically as he tried to keep a plant from wrapping around his neck.

Marigold already had tendrils covering almost her whole body. She wanted to scream, but the plant was covering her mouth.

"I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Neville said. The plant was quickly wrapping itself around him, but luckily he had his hands and wand free.

"Well hurry up! I can't breathe, and look at Marigold!"

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare… it likes the dark and damp but… Marigold!"

"Fire!" she tried to scream.

Marigold felt the plant squeezing the life out of her. She felt woozy, any longer and she would—suddenly, she saw flames! In a matter of seconds the plant had let go of her. The three of them were free; Marigold and Harry fell to the floor sputtering for breath. Neville dragged the two of them to the wall.

"Good job, Nev," Marigold coughed.

"You guys okay?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah, let's go." Harry pointed down a stone passageway.

Marigold was still coughing as they walked. The passageway sloped downward; they must be under the school. They walked for a while before they heard anything other than their footsteps.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Sounds like wings."

"There's a light, let's go!"

They reached the end of the passageway and saw a brightly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack?" Neville asked.

"Probably," Harry answered. "They don't look that bad, but I suppose if they all came at once… I'll go."

Harry covered his face with his arms, and before they could stop him, he dashed to the door on the other side. The birds didn't attack him, and he managed to reach the door unscathed. Marigold and Neville watched as he fumbled with the door.

"It's locked!" he called.

The two of them warily made their way over to Harry. They each tried opening it, but it wouldn't budge.

"What now?" Neville asked.

"These birds can't be here just for decoration, they have to have a purpose," Marigold said, gazing upward.

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys! So that must mean…"

The three of them looked around and their eyes rested on the brooms at the same time. Marigold looked back at the door; the lock was big and old.

"I think we're looking for a big, old fashioned one… probably silver like the handle."

Harry hopped on the broom and kicked off immediately. Marigold and Neville exchanged glances.

"It's okay, Nev."

"Thanks, Marigold."

Marigold kicked off. She and Harry grabbed and snatched, but the keys darted and dived so quickly that it was almost impossible to catch one. After about a minute, Harry spotted the key.

"That one! The one with the bright blue wings. The feathers are crumpled on one side!"

Harry and Marigold sped around. Marigold nearly ran into the ceiling beams a couple times trying to catch the key, but Harry was amazing on the broom. It wasn't long until he had the key pinned. They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door. The moment the lock clicked open, the key took flight again and looking very disheveled, having been caught twice now.

Harry pulled the door open. The next chamber was so dark that they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped hesitantly into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

Marigold's blood ran cold. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind black chessmen, which were taller than the three and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. The three of them shivered slightly—the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Do we really?" Neville asked, his voice shaking.

"I think we do," Marigold whispered back.

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" Harry asked.

"I think we're going to have to be the chessmen," she breathed.

Marigold walked up to a black knight and put her hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life, making Marigold jump. The horse pawed at the ground, and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at her.

"Do we have to… play to get across?"

The black knight nodded, and Marigold gulped.

"I suppose we take the place of three of the black pieces."

"Um, Marigold… how many times were you able to beat Ron?" Harry asked.

"Enough to gloat to you two, but not enough for this."

"Right then." Neville shivered. "What do we do?"

Marigold looked at the looming figures across the board. She had no idea how to do this, and this wasn't a situation where she could fake her way through. She looked at her friends; they were covered in dirt, scrapes, bruises, and blood. This could get them killed; _she_ could get them killed.

"Harry, take the queenside castle. Neville, the knight on the other side."

"What about you?"

"I'll be the bishop."

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words, the spoken-for chess pieces walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Neville, Harry, and Marigold took.

"White always plays first in chess, see?" Marigold pointed forward. A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Marigold thought hard before making her first move. She directed the chess pieces diligently. They moved silently wherever she sent them. Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Take that bishop, Harry," Marigold ordered without missing a beat.

Every time one of her men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon, there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Marigold managed to take almost as many white pieces as she had lost black ones. Marigold made sure Harry and Neville stayed as out of the way as they could. Even so, there were a couple of close calls.

Marigold realized all too suddenly that there was a call to make, and she hated herself.

"Nev, do you trust me?" she called over to him.

"Yes? What is it Goldie?"

The nickname almost caught her off guard.

"I have to ask you to move, and if you do, you'll get hurt. But we'll win."

"Where?"

"What are you two talking about?" Harry asked, not catching on.

"Where, Marigold?"

"Next to the queen."

Neville moved, as he was moving Harry realized. He screamed at Neville to stop, but Neville kept walking. Neville reached his square, placing the king in check. The white queen retaliated with vengeance. She struck Neville in the chest with full force. He crumpled to the ground, and Marigold could have died. The white queen dragged an unconscious Neville to the side of the board.

Harry was frozen, his face twisted anger.

Marigold walked several squares; the queen moving had opened her path to the king. They had won. The white king took off his crown and threw it at her feet. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear.

Marigold grabbed the crown and bolted to Neville, Harry right on her heels, demanding to know how she could be so cold.

Marigold got to Neville's side and threw the crown at Harry. She grabbed the potion out of her robes and sat down next to Neville, placing his head in her lap. She was crying. She was able to get Neville to swallow the potion, and they stayed like that for a few minutes before Neville sputtered awake.

"Marigold?"

"Hey, you're goanna be okay!" she cried.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Neville tried to sit up, but couldn't.

"You guys are goanna have to go on without me."

"But what about you?" Harry asked.

"I'll be okay. You have to stop Snape. Really, the sooner you stop Snape, the sooner you can get me help. Go on!"

Marigold nodded. She got up and gently laid Neville's head on the ground. She took off her robe and balled it up to use as a pillow. Neville gave a reassuring smile as Marigold grabbed the king's crown from Harry.

The two of them ran toward the door, and Marigold threw the crown to the floor. As soon as she let go, the white chess pieces started to return to their posts.

Harry pushed the door open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making them both gag. Eyes watering, they saw a very large troll stumbling around the room. It looked as if Snape had done a number on it, but it would still be difficult to get around it, especially with its large club.

Marigold remembered the last time they went up against a troll. Harry did too, it seemed.

They hadn't moved, so the troll hadn't seen them yet. Harry motioned to the door on the other side of the room. Marigold nodded, a very dumb idea forming in her head.

"Harry," Marigold whispered, "I'll distract it, you make a run for it."

"What? No!" Harry hissed back.

But Marigold was already moving. She made as much noise as she could, and the troll took the bait. It lumbered toward her, growling. It swung its club at her, but she ducked at the last minute. She watched as Harry darted across the room. In the split second she took her eyes off the troll, its free hand seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She went flying in Harry's direction.

She hit the door with a hard thud; dizzily, she opened it, and the two of them raced through.

Marigold thought she was seeing stars, but when her vision came back, along with a pounding headache, she realized that she and Harry were completely surrounded by fire.

"Marigold, that was incredibly stupid."

"But it got us here… where is here?" she asked.

The fire behind them was purple; the fire leading to the next door was black. They were completely trapped.

"Snape's trap. Look at the bottles," Harry said pointing.

The two of them walked over the table. A scroll of paper was lying next to the bottle. Marigold read it, Harry looking over her shoulder.

 _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

 _Two of us will help you whichever you would find,_

 _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

 _Chose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

 _You will always find some on the nettle wine's left side;_

 _Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

 _But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

 _Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

 _Neither Dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

 _Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

 _Are wins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

"This isn't magic, it's a riddle," Marigold said. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"How will we know which to drink?" Harry asked.

"We have to figure it out."

The two of them poured over the riddle for some time.

It took too long. Harry kept eying the door, expecting Snape to emerge with the stone. Marigold kept looking back, expecting the troll to smash through.

"So we know the giant bottle is not poison," Marigold said.

"And it's twins with the one second to the left, so those two must be nettle wine?"

"I think so… so, if those are the wine, then the ones directly to the left must be the two poisons… what does that leave us?"

"We know that the ones at each end are different…"

"Right… since we know the left end is poison, the right end must be the one that sends you back. And since the smallest is not poison…"

"It must be the one to move ahead!"

"That has to be it! Good job, Harry!"

Marigold grabbed the two bottles. The one to move forward barely had enough for Harry to get through, let alone the both of them.

"You go back. Get help… grab a broom from the flying-key room, you can get out the trap door and past fluffy on it. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold off Snape for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."

"But Harry, what if You-Know-Who is with him?"

"Well, I was lucky once wasn't I?" Harry said, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

"Oh, Harry!" Marigold hugged him tight.

" _Marigold!_ "

"You will be great. You're a great wizard!"

Harry hugged her back.

"You will be safe, won't you?" Marigold asked, letting go.

"You know me," Harry said. With one last look, he downed the bottle and walked through the fire and out of sight.

Marigold drank her bottle and walked through the purple flames.

She fought with the troll a second time, desperately trying to make her way to the other side. She was thrown around the room a lot. Each time she landed, she had a newfound determination to get to the door. Harry needed her.

Somehow, she managed to get through the other door.

She was bloody and dizzy, but she made her way over to Neville. He tried to get up when he saw her, but couldn't.

"Harry needs help!" she panted.

"Go!" Neville urged. "I'll be okay for a little while longer."

Marigold hobbled on. She grabbed a broom just like Harry told her to. It took a lot to keep a hold of the broom with the amount of blood on her hands. She flew past the Devil's Snare, out the trap door, and past the three-headed dog; she landed outside the third floor corridor and half stumbled, half ran through.

She hadn't been running long when she heard footsteps approaching, fast. She turned down a corridor and ran smack into Professor Dumbledore.

"Professor! Harry- He's in the chamber. Neville needs help, too!"

"Minerva."

Marigold felt herself being passed to Professor McGonagall while Dumbledore raced off in the direction Marigold had just come. Having done her duty and gotten help, overwhelming pain engulfed Marigold's very being, and thankfully, she passed out.

(A/N: Tune in next time for the end of the year! Please let me know what you guys think, I love hearing from you!)


	20. Heroes

(A/N: Hey guys! It's the end of the year! Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K)

The first time Marigold woke up in the hospital wing, her eyes were out of focus and her head hurt a lot. She tried looking around, but the room swayed, and she passed out.

The second time Marigold woke up in the hospital wing, she saw Snape asleep in the chair next to her. She frantically fumbled about for her wand, making Snape wake up. He tried to comfort her, but she punched him square in the nose. Madam Pomfrey showed up seconds later and forced some sort of potion down Marigold's throat that made her pass out again.

The third time Marigold woke up in the hospital wing, she was in restraints. Snape was nowhere to be found; in his place sat Professor Dumbledore.

"It seems as though we have been here before, my dear girl," Dumbledore said.

"Harry? Neville?"

"They are fine, just fine. Harry woke up a few hours ago; he's resting in the bed next to yours. And thanks to you, Neville made a full recovery. He's already been in to visit with Harry and yourself, though you were asleep."

"Snape was here… I thought he was going after the Stone," Marigold said, confused.

"Severus? No, my dear, it was the late Professor Quirrell. It seems he and Voldemort were working in tandem."

"Quirrell? What happened?"

"In short, Harry defeated them."

"Them? You-Know-Who was there?" Marigold asked, completely in shock.

"Voldemort. Always use the proper name of things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. And yes, he was there."

"Did Harry beat You-Kn—Voldemort? Is Voldemort gone now? For good?"

"In a way, when he defeated Quirrell, Harry managed to get rid of this version of Voldemort. But he will turn up again, I'm sure. Harry, it seems, only delayed Voldemort's rise, but I suppose it's only a matter of time before he comes back in some way or another."

"I see…"

Marigold healed steadily; thanks in no small part to Madam Pomfrey, who at this point Marigold felt was well deserving of a basket of muffins. Harry woke up shortly after Dumbledore left, and the curtains between their beds were drawn aside.

Harry told her what had happened as the two pigged out on the get-well candy Harry had been given.

When he had gotten to the next room, Harry had found Professor Quirrell and the Mirror of Erised. Harry explained how Snape had apparently been trying to protect Harry all year. It had been Quirrell who had let the troll in at Halloween, as Snape had already suspected.

Harry explained how the Stone had been inside the Mirror or Erised and how he had obtained it. He told her what Dumbledore had told him, that only someone who whished to find the stone, but not use it, could get it.

Marigold nearly passed out from shock when Harry told her that Voldemort had been living on the back of Quirrell's head. Harry described how Voldemort had chalk white skin with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils.

Harry told Marigold that because of his mother's love, Voldemort (and Quirrell by proxy) couldn't touch him, and how when Quirrell tried, he had been burned raw. Marigold learned that Dumbledore had arrived just in time to save the day. According to Dumbledore, love is what made Quirrell and Voldemort unable to touch Harry… his mother's love.

Harry informed Marigold that the Stone was going to be destroyed.

Last but not least, Harry verified something Marigold had suspect: the invisibility cloak had been left in Dumbledore's possession until it had been passed to Harry.

Harry had just finished telling Marigold what had happened when Neville walked into the hospital wing.

"Marigold, Harry, you're up!" he exclaimed, running over to the two of them.

"You're okay!" Harry beamed.

"Yeah, thanks to Marigold," Neville replied, sitting down on her bed.

"Well, it was my fault you got hurt in the first place," Marigold said, looking down at her hands.

"Hey, I told you I trusted you, remember? And we got Harry through, didn't we? I'm glad I helped."

"Yeah?" Marigold asked, looking up at Neville.

"Yeah," Neville said, grabbing some of Harry's candy.

The three talked and ate sweets. Marigold told the two of them about her fight with the troll, and Neville told them what had happened since they were rescued. Apparently, Harry had missed a Quidditch match during his stay in the hospital wing. The points were all in Slytherin, and Gryffindor was in last place. But Neville begged them to come to the feast with him anyway.

Eventually, a very annoyed Madam Pomfrey kicked Neville out. After saying goodnight to the two of them, Neville went back to his dormitory. Madam Pomfrey closed the curtain between Marigold and Harry, and the two of them wished each other goodnight through the sheet.

Marigold was still very sore, and trying to ignore the pain in the uncomfortable bed was nearly impossible. But she soon heard Harry's snores from the other side of the curtain. She quickly fell asleep after, feeling safe.

The next morning, Madam Pomfrey woke Marigold up and gave her several potions that Marigold didn't recognize, and a few she did. None of them tasted very good. After a few gagging noises coming from Harry's bed, the curtain was drawn and the two of them were able to talk.

They both agreed: they had to attend the end of the year feast. When Madam Pomfrey returned a few minutes later, Harry asked her if they were allowed to go.

"Professor Dumbledore says you are both allowed to go," she said sniffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "Also, the two of you have a visitor."

"Oh good," Harry said. "Who is it?"

Hagrid ducked through the door as Harry spoke. Even in the large hospital wing, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He took one look at the two of them and burst into tears. He barely made it to the chair next to Harry before crumpling into a blubbery mess.

"It's—all—my—ruddy—fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. "I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn' know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out and made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" Harry said, a look of shock on his face. "Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about. He'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died! An' don' say the name!"

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed.

Marigold jumped so hard she nearly fell off her bed. Hagrid was so shocked that he stopped crying.

"I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a chocolate frog, I've got loads…"

"Harry's right, Hagrid. It's okay, we're fine."

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and grabbed one of the frogs.

"That reminds me. I've got yeh a present, Harry. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead—anyway, got yeh this…"

Hagrid handed harry a handsome, leather-bound book. Harry opened it. Marigold could see waving pictures from where she sat.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school frieds, askin' fer photos… knew yeh didn' have any… d'yeh like it?"

Harry couldn't speak. Marigold couldn't blame him.

Harry and Marigold were already late for the feast when Madam Pomfrey finally released them. She had insisted on giving them both one last checkup after realizing Marigold still had a limp.

When they finally reached the Great Hall, it was already full. The green and silver banners were hanging everywhere to celebrate the Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When Marigold and harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. The two of them sat down across from Neville at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at them. Hermione and Ron, who were sitting next to Neville, couldn't stop staring at them.

Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later, and the babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand as thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty two points; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and sixty-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Marigold could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table next to a whooping Crabbe and Goyle.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore said. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherin's smiles faded a little.

"Ahem. I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… to Mr. Harry Potter… for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

Gryffindor cheers rang through the hall; the candles above the long table seemed to quiver with their screams. Dumbledore waited for them to calm down before clearing his throat again, all eyes turned to see what he had to say next.

"Second—to miss Marigold Rosenberg…"

Marigold felt all eyes turn to her, including those of the professors. She desperately wanted to climb under the table.

"… for stepping up to lead in a time of chaos, and pushing through in a time of strife, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Marigold felt like she was going to cry. Gryffindors up and down the table were losing it. Dumbledore raised his hand and the room gradually fell.

"It takes a certain amount of fortitude to stand up for those around you, a certain strength in character to selflessly help those around you achieve their goals. I therefore award fifty points to Neville Longbottom."

The room was silent for about ten seconds before an explosion of cheers erupted through the Great Hall. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined in the celebration. Neville, white with shock, was ambushed by a swarm of elated Gryffindors. Harry somehow got Marigolds attention and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind curse put on him.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, "We need a little change of decoration."

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanquished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand with a horrible, forced smile.

It was the best evening of Marigold's life, better than Christmas. She would never ever forget tonight.

With Fluffy, the Stone, the hospital wing, and the house cup, Marigold had completely forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. Harry passed with good marks. Neville scraped through with a near perfect mark in Herbology, which made up for his abysmal Potions one. Marigold had the some of the best marks of the first years, second only to Hermione Granger.

Marigold was still healing, but with one last visit to Madam Pomfrey, she was set to go.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, and their trunks were packed. Notes were handed out to all the students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give these," Fred said sadly); Hagrid was there to take the first years down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake.

Then they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at Kings Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them to get off the platform. An old wizard guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at the same time and alarming the Muggles.

"You both have to write over the summer," Marigold said. "I'll see if I can have you over, at the very least for our birthday."

"Great! I'll need something to look forward to," Harry said.

People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway and back to the Muggle world. Some of them called out to Harry, saying goodbye.

Marigold and the boys passed through the gateway together. Mrs. Weasley was standing on the other side with Ginny. The trio walked over.

"Harry Potter, look, mom!" Ginny squealed as they got closer.

"Quiet, Ginny. It's rude to point."

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she asked, though Marigold knew full well that Mrs. Weasley knew what they had been through. She was sure Dumbledore had written to her.

"Very," Harry said. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Ready, are you?"

Marigold looked over to see a very large, purple-faced man. He could only be Harry's uncle. Marigold didn't appreciate how he was glaring at Harry. Behind the large man, a very angry looking woman was sheltering a porky boy who looked terrified at the very sight of Harry.

"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs. Weasley said.

"In a manner of speaking," he said. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

Harry hung back for a last word with Marigold and Neville.

"See you over the summer, then."

"I hope you have… a good holiday," Neville said, looking uncertainly at the people who had just walked away.

"Oh, I will," Harry said.

Marigold was surprised to see a grin spreading over his face.

"They don't know that we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…"

With that, and a last goodbye, Harry ran off after his relatives.

"You think he will be okay?" Neville asked.  
"Yeah, I think so… and if he's not we can always go and rescue him."

Neville's Grandmother showed up just as the twins joine the group of Weasleys. The two guardians exchanged pleasantries, but eventually, they had to go their separate ways, pulling their respective children along with them.

"I'll write as soon as I can, Nev," Marigold called as he walked away.

"Me too, Goldie!" Neville shouted, waving.

"So, Marigold, why are you all scratched and limping?" Ginny asked, leaving her mother's side.

"Well, Ginny, that is a wonderful story…"

(A/N: The year is finally over! Marigold will return in the next installment: Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls. While I reread the second book (to make sure everything follows the storyline), I will be writing about Marigold's summer in a small short story. Thank you so much for reading, I love you all!)

(Update: The next installments in the Marigold Rosenberg series are posted and ready to go. _Is One Letter too Hard, Harry?_ , is a short story including important information and the first month of Marigold's summer. Book two is _Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls_. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy the next stories.)


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